The first time Kazumi had been able to take a good look at Cragspur's castle, she had been half-asleep and running on adrenaline.
Having a clear view of the castle, illuminated against the light of the full moon - along with the rest of the mountain kingdom from the army's perch atop one of the roads leading alongside the face of the southern formation - the Auroran suddenly gained a new appreciation as to just how far they had come.
"You could fit all of Aurora's castle into the inner ward..." Hanbei muttered, having taken advantage of the short break in their march to join her in sitting at the edge of the rock. Kanbei stayed a respectful distance back, something his counterpart had teased him about before coming over to join her, but Kazumi got the impression even the normally reserved Ignite was still in awe at the sheer scope of the bastion.
"Yeah," Kazumi sighed out, finding even the smallest subtleties in the dull-looking countryside a relief. Her sapphire orbs glanced down to her hands, clutching the hem of her skirt in a desperate attempt to keep them from shaking. Memories of Yaksha and Kotaro and the mansion flashed across her vision, and the shaky breath she took did nothing to stop her shoulders from trembling at the memories of trying to reason with the ghostly Tadashi. At least once they concluded their mercifully short business here they would be able to return to the desert kingdom.
"Kazumi?" hearing her name - and she found herself liking hearing Hanbei in particular say it - shook the Warlord out of her doldrums. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine," as much as she could be, anyways. Kazumi took another breath.
"I just..." more memories of Yaksha assailed her for a brief second, and she found herself turning to meet Hanbei's purple irises. "I... Hanbei," another memory, this time of Hanbei rushing in moments after Kotaro left. Of the relief she felt at seeing his face - the tactician just blinked in apprehension, and the Auroran had little doubt that her very obvious distress was helping. "Listen; I just... I want..."
Kazumi felt her hands ball into fists as the back of her throat started to go dry. The girl's stomach was doing summersaults and she had become painfully aware of all the nearby warriors, even if they were out of earshot and too busy to notice them.
"Is something wrong, milady?" Hanbei finally said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.
"Yes," Kazumi hissed inwardly - if she didn't know better, she would have said she caught a small smirk on Kanbei's face out of the corner of her eye. "The one time I need you to understand you have to be completely oblivious, you dolt."
"No..." She cursed herself as the words finally died in her throat, and she took no consolation in the fact that Hanbei was clearly unconvinced. For once Kazumi wished she had her brother's brashness; his usually infuriating ability to toss caution to the wind and charge headfirst into any situation. "Nevermind... It's not important." the Auroran followed that with a halfhearted nod. "I'll tell you after we get back to Terrera."
The brunette choked down her regret along with some bile and forced herself to stand, brushing off some imaginary dust on her skirt. The tactician nodded, allowed his frown to spread as she turned back to the panoply of resting warriors behind them, and then followed, looking forward to the opportunity to sleep in Cragspur for the few hours of nighttime they had left, and craning his mind to come up with a way to cheer her up in the morning.
"Masamune," the Warlord in question was too excited to even feel the usual prick of irritation at the mercenary's complete lack of respect. Despite that, he slowly opened his good eye and calmly pushed himself upright from the tree he was so fond of napping against, putting on the best show of disinterested self-restraint he could. It didn't fool Magoichi in the slightest, and he made a point of smoothing out the letter in his hand just to see if the delay would annoy his employer. It worked. "Kojuro's letter; the Aurorans are on the march back to Terrera."
Masamune could barely control the grin that broke out across his face, practically vaulting across the courtyard towards his now-awake Braviary within a second of the sentence. The Avian flung himself over his partner's back, the Valiant Pokémon not so much as blinking at the sudden impact, and turned his gaze back to Magoichi as he settled into the saddle.
"Magoichi," the Avian said with the most genuine grin the man had ever seen on him. "Years from now you'll remember this day as the day Ransei's unification really began."
Masamune tapped his heels against his partner's sides - with enough restraint to at least not look giddy - and the Pokémon launched off into the skies with an almighty beat of the wings. Magoichi coughed and lowered his arms as the dust finally cleared, looking up at the skies his lord has disappeared into. The mercenary finally let out a tired sigh, shot an envious look at the Grovyle resting peacefully across the yard, and then shook his head.
"Better send someone after him..." Magoichi muttered as he turned back to the castle, denying himself the simple pleasure of pinching the bridge of his nose. "Some supplies, too - might have to wait them out."
"No; you three need to agree upon a plan of attack in advance. Better to have one you have misgivings about than none at all; a lack of cohesion will doom any army."
Oichi watched on silently as Naoshige lectured the three boys beneath him as to why they lost, and patiently answered questions barbed enough that they would have gotten Tadashi slapped, if his stories about Dosetsu's stringent tutelage were true. Mitsunari, Kiyomasa and Masanori clearly weren't happy about losing - or having been told to stay behind in Chrysalia and then Terrera by Hanbei, as questioning had revealed (Oichi had grown a quiet smile at the less the subtle gesture of kindness) - but they tried to make the best of it by continuing to train day in and out. Yukimura had graciously agreed to be their dummy for today - and between Shingen's training and Charmeleon knowing supereffective moves against all three of its opponents, the Terreran was a step up from herself - and so Oichi had decided to try her hand at arranging a flower crown for Jigglypuff while the mid-morning aged into noon.
"Just like Lord Yukimura not to know how to go easy..." the ninja above her remarked lazily, gazing down at the training field from her perch in the tree Oichi had taken shelter under.
"Reminds me of someone else I know," the Auroran replied with a small smile, putting down the needle pinched between her fingers as she decided she had stabbed enough of Terrera's scarce flora for one day. Oichi didn't know whether the other girl had already been in the tree when she sat down under it, but she found Kunoichi a surprisingly good conversationalist - and, for that matter, one of the few people in Terrera who talked to her like nothing had happened. The Auroran remembered the ninja blowing a razz berry when she thanked her for it, followed by a nonchalant 'No prob'; unbecoming of her given the girl's profession (no, unbecoming of any profession, Oichi corrected herself dryly), but she had got the vague idea Shingen's spymaster could emphasize from the reply.
"How is your Lord? Can't be worse off than that sourpuss," Oichi suppressed the urge to snicker - a welcome distraction from Kunoichi's subtle accenting of 'lord' - and was grateful said Warlord was nowhere near in sight.
"Lord Tadashi keeps telling me he's fine, but it's hard to take him seriously when he flinches as he says it," the girl in pink replied, smile a little stronger. Even if Tadashi's spirits had been dampened, his resolve was unshakeable.
"I hope he gets better soon; all that lying around can't be healthy," Oichi just nodded in return, not feeling the need to mention Tadashi had taken to pacing around the infirmary like a monomaniac whenever he thought she or Naoshige weren't nearby.
"Anyways," Kunoichi dropped down from the brunch above her, landing as gracefully as the Sneasel besides her, sandy eyes set firmly on the Terreran even as she addressed the other junior warlord. "I'm gonna bug Lord Yukimura. Good luck!"
Oichi spent a moment to wonder what she had aimed the last statement at - her lord, perhaps? - until the Auroran looked back towards the battlefield and saw the trio of kids approaching her spot, Naoshige seemingly spent.
"Hello, you three," she put on a smile for the boys as they came to a stop in front of her. Mitsunari returned it, but was cut off by Masanori.
"Hey," the the stumpy one of the group crossed his arms and leaned in. "So, which one of us did you think was right?"
Kiyomasa's head jerked over to him, a scowl breaking across the boy's previously placid face. "Hey, we agreed we were all in the wro-"
"Clearly I was," Mitsunari said with the type of authority that could only stem from an ego - one about as big as his headdress, Kiyomasa muttered to himself - and snapping his fan into his open palm for emphasis. "I factored in Charmeleon's weakness to Ground Types whereas you agreed it would be better to mob it-"
"From a distance," Kiyomasa countered. "And away from the Brick Breaks."
"But not the Dragon Rages," Masanori muttered bitterly, looking down at the Sandile in his arms. The one in red pinched his nose.
"If you had just used Sand Attack like I said-"
"I think," Oichi finally said, Mitsunari blinking self-consciously when he remembered she was still in front of them. "That Naoshige was right."
She could feel the collective guilt from the three in the silence that followed, Masanori breaking it as he stepped forward to eye her with more curiosity than she felt comfortable with.
"Hey, Miss Oichi? What everyone's saying isn't true, is it?"
Something in her gut screamed at her to come up with an excuse and leave - and she caught something mirroring the feeling spreading across Mitsunari's face - but Oichi couldn't help her curiosity. That had always been her undoing, she noted belatedly.
"What do you mean?" Masanori blinked innocently.
"That you're a spy an-" he didn't get a chance to finish; in the blink of an eye Mitsunari flicked his fan into Masanori's forehead. But it was too late, and Oichi knew she should have just listened to her gut.
"N-No, I would never..." the girl donned a smile for their sakes - not that it could hide the mist in her eyes - and forced herself to stand on shaky knees. Mitsunari offered an apologetic bow, and Oichi muttered something low enough in return that even she didn't understand it. None of the trio could bring themselves to watch as she headed back towards the castle, swallowing an impending sniffle - it was only hearing the announcement of the main army's approach in the distance that veered her away from the infirmary and towards the kitchen. At least she could find something to distract herself there.
He appreciated Oichi's company. He really did. It had been the biggest source of comfort to him over the past few days, even more than his Eevee.
Despite that, the prospect of seeing his sister again exited Tadashi in a way that none of Oichi's visits had. Not just for being able to be brought up to speed about the war, not for the chance of getting a clearer picture of the situation of Ransei, or even in hearing how everyone else had been doing.
He just wanted to see her again.
When Naoshige had brought the news of her return, the Auroran felt a torrent of emotions wash over them - he had hidden them long enough to dismiss the man before confronting them. Relief at hearing she was safe, excitement at the thought of being able to see her face again - he had never truly appreciated how much of a presence she had until it was torn away from him - disappointment and anger that she would have to see him like this.
And above all else, guilt. Guilt at having let this come to pass, guilt at not being able to support her, and guilt at having tried to push her away; of his petty jealousy that had very nearly cost them Aurora, how he had been so self-absorbed to try to force himself out of her shadow. Memories of their childhood flashed in front of his eyes as the minutes dragged on; of fears of never finding her again during games of hide and seek and old taunts about them completing each other's sentences (a habit he had worked hard to break). Of the ever-present specter that they would always support each other.
The door to the infirmary creaked open, smashing Tadashi's thoughts. Stormy eyes reflected in the icy, serene pools across the room, neither twin being able to bring themselves to react for a minute. Kazumi finally felt a shaky smile at seeing her brother conscious again - covered in bandages and lying in a sick bed, but still able to look back at her all the same.
"Tadashi..." her voice nearly cracked. The other Warlord smiled back.
"Kazumi," he held her gaze for a few minutes, struggling not to tear up at the sight of her. He looked down when Eevee leapt out of his arms and ran over to her - or, rather over to the Pokémon peering at him from behind her legs. No, he realized with a blink; the Espeon behind her legs. He could feel the breath leave his chest at the sight - Kazumi picked up on it and left behind the two Pokémon and made her way to his side.
"I'm glad you're safe," Kazumi didn't care if it was cliché; she just wanted to say it to him.
"I've been better," Tadashi replied wryly, though it sounded hollow even to him. The Warlord cleared his throat and let his curiosity take over. "How have things gone your end? Managed well enough without me?"
"Good," the girl replied hesitantly, mind racing through potential wordings. "Things are working out like we planned. We've taken Cragspur and Yaksha, and we'll be moving on Viperia in a few days," she didn't feel the need to bring up anything more about Yaksha. "They haven't really tried to stop us, either."
Tadashi nodded quietly, but Kazumi caught his face darkening. She let out the rest of her apprehensions with a heavy sigh; the longer she prolonged this, the worse the reaction would be.
"We've also lost Motonari," that forlorn aside tore the Warlord out of his silent reflections on how far Kazumi had gotten: his head snapped up, his gaze meeting hers again. She nearly flinched at the shock in it.
"He... He's?"
"No," Kazumi replied with a shake of the head, desperately hoping she could believe her own words. "We're not certain. He led some troops into Avia as a decoy and stayed behind to cover the retreat."
Tadashi nodded grimly, entertaining the unhealthy idea of what he would have been able to do had he not been cooped up in Terrera. Silvery orbs then turned away from their counterparts to the two Pokémon on the other side of the room, absentmindedly conversing. To the Eevee and Espeon - the Pokémon that had helped his sister take the rest of central Ransei, just as they planned. And she had executed it near-flawlessly so far.
"Tadashi?" Kazumi placed her hand on his when she caught him quietly gulp, eyes quivering.
"So this is it," he thought, eyes going down to the back of his sister's hand and then up to meet the concern in hers. "I'm never getting out of this cot."
Tadashi felt his breath hitch when Kazumi shifted and wrapped her arms around him, doing her best to avoid pressing too hard.
"You can cry if you want to, brother," she whispered. "It's just us."
Something inside the brunette snapped at hearing that.
"Useless..." Tadashi buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and returned the hug, trying desperately to hide the sight of the hot tears starting to trail down his face. Whether to keep her from seeing them or having to watch her reaction, he didn't know. Kazumi just rubbed his back as the oppressive silence continued. "All I can do now... Is to help sister unify Ransei... And try not to get left behind."
They stayed there, together and in silence, long after his breathing had steadied.
Valora's captivity hadn't been glamorous by any stretch; Motonari had regained consciousness suspended upside down from Tadakatsu's shoulder like some Pokémon he had just hunted down for dinner, and even after having been placed upright still had to contend with the awkward situation of being led about by the arms like a lost child (and, to further rub salt in the wound, the Valoran warriors suddenly adopting hushed tones whenever he was nearby, like parents talking about something they didn't want to burden their progeny with).
In a cruel sense, however, the Greenleafer felt Ieyasu's coddling - for lack of a better word - was a more humane captivity than the obsolescence Mitsuhide granted him.
"This will be your room," Mitsuhide had said in same the inscrutable voice he had used the few other times he had spoken during their journey. To Motonari it sounded like a man desperately trying to ignore the fact that his newfound prisoner even existed - just another flake of snow on his conscious, unique but all-the-same.
The captive Warlord gave a small nod, trying to suppress the near-perpetual shiver threatening to overtake him at the climate. That Mitsuhide had stripped him of almost all his possessions; coat, gloves, hat, arrows, the book he had brought for the march - even his bag of tea leaves - certainly didn't help. He could understand confiscating his coat and even the book, but the tea was just cruel. The only things he had been left with were his wedding ring and readers; two very strong reminders of where exactly he was in life as he stepped into his prison cell - one that looked more like a guest room that had just been stripped of all amenities. Certainly better than a dungeon by any rate.
Not a second passed before the door slid shut behind the Greenleafer, and as he listened to Mitsuhide's light steps slowly fade away, his complete and utter isolation final crashed down on him. The first thing his mind drifted to as he went over to the one object in the otherwise empty room - a cot - was how his sons were faring. Were they still in Illusio? How well were they managing the army in his absence? Ekei and Serperior were with them, so too much couldn't go wrong. Motonari blinked as his partner flashed through his mind once again, and the oppressive loneliness only grew worse. In the thirty five years he had fought alongside the Pokémon - alongside his best friend - he had never once woken up without being able to feel its presence nearby, even faintly. The Grass Type's absence had left a bigger echo in its wake than the Pokémon would have probably been able to appreciate. Travelling the past few days had been like stumbling through the dark; his eyesight and hearing had deteriorated enough that the Warlord had wondered if Tadakatsu had done more damage than he originally thought, until he realized that he had simply lost the insight his link provided. Was Serperior suffering the same as he was? For that matter, with him gone, how patient would it be w-
"Hello!" Motonari managed to hold in any undignified outbursts at the voice - which was far too close for him to be comfortable even under normal circumstances - but still put a fair amount of distance between himself and the intruder with a less-than graceful leap. The Greenleafer had already spun himself around mid-jump, arms raised in a defensive stance to try to block whatever blow he might have found coming his way-
Only to find himself face to face with a little girl.
"I'm Gracia," the redhead said blithely, the innocent and clearly entertained smile that had spread across her face making the Warlord feel all the more silly. "What's your name?"
Motonari's immediate response was to allow himself to blink in disbelief and wonder how much time had passed since he had been put in the room. The sight of a Gothorita peeking out at him from behind Gracia's small frame put that disturbing line of thought to rest.
"My name is Motonari Mori," the man replied in his clipped Greenleaf accent, dropping his arms and savoring the brief feeling of humiliation that washed over him. The girl below nodded, and was about to say something before the Pokémon next to her tugged on the back of her mini-cape. The same feeling of awkwardness from days prior began to dawn on him again as the Psychic Type carried out its non-verbal conversation with the redhead, the only signs that it was even going on being their eye contact and Gracia's nod. The break in their conversation ended seemingly as soon as it began, and the girl turned back up to the Greenleafer looming above.
"Maria says you look funny, Mr. Mori," came the statement, green orbs peering over the man with a little more curiosity than before. Motonari just smiled.
"Do I?" Gracia blinked and made eye contact with him, seemingly oblivious to her partner's more guarded posturing.
"I haven't met anyone with green hair before," the girl replied innocently.
"Well, I don't believe I've met anyone with red hair, either," Motonari said, placid smile growing a hair wider. Gracia's cheeks flushed, and her gaze flitted down to the floorboards. The Greenleafer just ignored the glare from the Gothorita behind her.
"Papa says I look a lot like Mama..." Motonari felt his smile drop at the quiet remark, and realized only a second into the uncomfortable silence that his thumb had gone to the gold on his finger. To make matters worse, the Warlord began to develop an uncomfortable inkling in the back of his mind.
"Who is your father?" he tried to mask whatever hesitation slipped into his voice. Gracia's head shot up, and while she was clearly excited about being able to talk about her father to someone who might not have known who he was, Motonari could make out something resembling desperation slip across her face at the mention of him.
"He's the Warlord!" she exclaimed happily, titling her head as the same broad smile broke out across her face. All the while Motonari tried to keep himself from having a panic attack and smile like the comment was reassuring. "He's really brave! He always has to go out to fight the bad guys, but Papa's also really nice and-"
"I'm terribly sorry, Gracia," the Greenleafer finally managed to say, taking a little bit of comfort in having been able to keep his voice level. "But I don't think he would appreciate you talking to me."
Gracia just blinked in the same innocent manner as before - she fortunately seemed oblivious to the fact that all the blood had drained out of his features, leaving him looking as grim as Reshiram. "Why not?"
"Well, I'm afraid I'm his prisoner right now," Motonari spared a short second to ponder his ability to smile at that. The girl took a step back, but still held his gaze.
"But... Papa wouldn't do that unless you had done something wrong..." some of the desperation Motonari had caught on her face before slipped into her voice, and the Warlord felt his throat go dry underneath a thin smile.
"Reshiram, bless her innocent soul..." part of him immediately regretted invocation of the Legendary Pokémon, but he paid it no heed.
"It wasn't his choice, fortunately," Motonari said serenely enough that it seemed to provide the girl below with some measure of calm. "Were it not for your father's intervention, I'm afraid a much worse fate would have befallen me anyhow."
"Oh..." the reply was level, but it was obvious to Motonari it brought Gracia little comfort. The Gothorita next to her - Maria, she had been called? Quite the notion - placed a flimsy-looking hand on the redhead's dainty shoulder and muttered something indecipherable in its name-based tongue. Gracia seemed to ignore it. "Is there anything I can do, Mr. Mori?"
The Psychic Type voiced what was obviously an objection, and the Greenleafer felt obliged to agree with it.
"I'm afraid not; if anything, I feel it would be best for both our sakes if you were to forget about me for now," it was at Gracia's dismayed sigh and stiff nod that a small, conciliatory thought entered his mind.
"Though..." Motonari said with a little more cheer, the girl below looking back up at practically hearing the quiet smile return to his mien. "You wouldn't happen to like tea, would you?"
It seemed it was her turn to feel uncomfortable now, Kazumi mused. The hours spent with Tadashi still hung heavy over her - and yet, it seemed oddly alleviating, too - but it was the idea of continuing her conversation with Hanbei from before that now had her nerves frayed. Her surroundings weren't very conducive to what she had in mind, either; just the oasis where they had their disastrous picnic at, and an endless background of sand with the late-afternoon sun and the silhouette of a lone Pokémon flying across it. But they were alone, and that mattered more to her than anything else right now.
"Kazumi," that Hanbei still felt comfortable enough, even with the nervousness in his voice, to forgo any titles with her was a small reassurance. The Warlord was also glad he had been the first to say something; she felt silly at having her will begin to erode again after having survived Yaksha. "Is there something wrong? Personally, I mean? I haven't done anything to-"
"No, no, Zekrom no," came her reply, Kazumi feeling even sillier now. Hanbei raised a raven eyebrow and folded his hands behind his head, but the Auroran could tell he was relieved. They walked in silence for a little further, passing the lone palm tree in sight and enjoying the solitude of each other's company before the brunette worked up the gusto to continue. If Viperia and Avia would be half as bad as Yaksha, she wanted him to at least know if something did happen.
"Hanbei..." Kazumi steeled herself, turning around to meet his purple gaze. "We haven't known each other for very long, but it feels like I've known you for years already."
"Kazumi?" Hanbei could feel a blush begin to creep over his features at the sight of the very visible one on her face. The brunette just nodded, wringing one shaky hand with another.
"I like you," the moment those words left her lips, Kazumi felt like a weight had been dropped from her shoulders. Even Terrera's air tasted a little less dusty. "A lot."
If Hanbei's blush got any stronger, it would have been a sunburn. The Auroran doubted she was faring any better, especially now that the tactician had adopted that same goofy smile he would get whenever he was happy.
"Kazumi, I feel the..." Hanbei blinked, and the smile vanished as his face suddenly darkened. Her heart skipped a beat, hopes and confidence starting to shatter, only to turn into curiosity when Hanbei took a step to the side, gaze still set towards the horizon.
"Kazumi," hearing him still call her by her first name softened the surge of frustration as she followed his gaze. The Warlord felt her teeth grind at the sight of the fliers in the distance, having no doubt in her mind where they had come from.
"How dare he interrupt-"
"Maybe we should head back to the castle," Hanbei said with palpable annoyance ad a little bit of fear, placing a hand on her shoulder. Kazumi almost nodded; they had both left their Pokémon back in Terrera and she doubted Masamune's intentions were friendly, but the silhouettes were growing bigger - fast. Terrera was too far away, and she doubted there was anyone who could help within earshot. The realization that she wasn't going to get out of this slowly crushed whatever elation she had left, but the Auroran was resolved to not show her back to the Avian either. She was the Warlord of Aurora, and she would act with all the dignity it demanded - she would not run from her battles.
"No," Kazumi felt her throat go dry, and the Ignite's head snapped back to her. "Go get help. I'll buy you as much time as I can."
"What!? No, I'll try to hold-"
"Hanbei," the Warlord said, making her voice as firm as she could. It wasn't very good, but Hanbei swallowed his question and nodded regardless. She heard the sand crunch underneath his sandals as he took a half-step back, and didn't need to turn around to know he was forcing back tears.
"J-Just promise me we will meet again."
"We will."
"One way or another," she thought solemnly. Kazumi couldn't bring herself to look back as Hanbei finally tore his gaze away and began his frantic race back to Terrera; all she could do was continue staring firmly ahead as the sounds of his footsteps grew fainter and the cacophony of flapping became deafening. The brunette didn't so much as blink as the fliers landed around her; sending her ponytail and plumes of sand into the breeze with a few last flaps. Kazumi could only focus on returning Masamune's gaze.
"Lady Kazumi," Masamune threw himself off his Braviary, taking off his helmet and giving her a mockingly low bow. The Auroran's eyes narrowed into slits as she caught the Warlord's smirk underneath his mop of brown hair. "I suppose you thought you were clever in leaving Cragspur so lightly defended."
"Lord Masamune," it took all of Kazumi's self-control to not growl. He had effortlessly seen through both their ploys, the reinforcements that showed up in Viperia had foiled what would have been a victory, and now he was here and she was alone. She had badly underestimated Masamune, and now she was paying for it - nevermind that it had put Hanbei in danger, too. "And I suppose you think you'll need a captive just to stand a chance against us?"
Masamune let out a derisive snort as he donned his helmet again. "It's a shame that tongue of yours isn't a weapon - you could actually stand a chance against Nobunaga."
"So your complete lack of wit is why you're busy licking his boots?" Kazumi took no small amount of satisfaction in seeing she had clearly struck a nerve; just a bit of restitution for him having come now of all times. But whatever anger she had riled up in Masamune quickly fizzled away in the face of another distinctive combination of a smug grin and crossed arms.
"I'm not the one relying on bluster, am I?" she felt her own smirk fade away at the reminder of her predicament, something the Avian seemed all too happy about. "And I can assure you, that will change."
"Now," Masamune's voice dropped to a level that made him sound genuinely intimidating, arms mimicking the shift; hands moving towards the holstered pistols and sheathed sabre he wore so casually. The glare of the Braviary next to him certainly added to the image. "You can either come willingly, or I can knock you out and send one of my men after your friend. Your choice."
For a moment, she felt like pressing him on the last point, but dismissed the thought. Confirming what he probably suspected would only make things worse if he did decide to go after the Ignite. Kazumi let out most of the air in her lungs, followed by her pride with a small nod. She knew the moment she told Hanbei to get help it was futile; the castle was too distant, but it was the only way to allow the tactician to retain some sense of self-respect while getting him out of harm's way. And yet the Warlord put as much of her courtly bearing and dignity into her stride as she could; even if she had cast away her pride, Kazumi would not allow this upstart to break her composure. Masamune's grin returned, lacking most of the edge it had before, and he hoisted himself back onto his partner before looking down at the brunette.
Blue eyes met brown and his smirk grew.
The Warlord in black offered a hand.
Her stomach churned and the Warlord in white took it.
"Taken?" Tadashi repeated with a shake of his head, lips pulling against the edges of his mouth as he fully processed the quiet statement. The girl in pink could only gulp as his stormy eyes turned up to met hers; the denial in them almost made her nauseous. "Oichi, I don't appreciate jokes like this, even if you mean well."
She couldn't bring herself to respond. The quiet sniffle and downcast glance was the only reply he needed.
"Impossible," the Warlord nearly snarled, gaze shifting to bore holes into the door. Between the bared teeth and white knuckles - and from every appearance it looked as if he was trying to strangle the bedsheets - Oichi felt the desire to scoot back. "She was just here a few hours ago! There's no way an army got by the castle without us knowing!"
"It was a small group of fliers," Oichi replied timidly, like speaking any louder would cause the room to come crashing down around them. "Lady Kazumi went out for a walk with Hanbei. It was only by dumb luck-"
"Dumb... luck..." and with that all the force and spirit in Tadashi's voice seemed to fade away into the ether. It was said like a question, but to Oichi it sounded like the last words of a dying man bitterly trying to cling to life. His shoulders slumped, grip slackened and a stillborn sigh escaped him as silvery orbs slackened into an inscrutable, lifeless stare.
"Useless."
He had failed again. Completely and utterly failed - and above all else, failed to save the one person who had done nothing but try to save him. Failed the only family he had left.
"Useless."
Tadashi could hear the faint, distant sound of an echoed pounding, as his thoughts kept looping back to Kazumi.
"Useless."
The ghosts of past battles began to parade themselves in front of his vision; Terrera, Pugilis, Violight, Greenleaf - of waiting in the cave networks of Ignis for news of Kazumi carrying the day yet again.
"Useless, useless, useless-"
The pounding got harsher, louder, echoing everywhere around him like an amassing army. Tadashi could feel something inside of him slowly twisting itself over and over again as the hammering turned into a cacophony. And then it snapped, along with the last threads holding his mouth shut and keeping his arms still. Fingers dug unto his scalp, clutching down hard on the earthy strands as the Auroran heard the scream echo in his head - his scream, loud and twisted enough to have brought down the very walls around him, a cry that bleed into a laugh and then a desperate, unheard plea as it entered its death throes and dragged everything with it.
And then, silence. Perfect, beautiful, silence, and the emptiness it brought. No Nobunaga, no Ransei, no Aurora, no Kazumi, no Tadashi, no war, no screaming; just silence. Silence and uselessness.
"Lord Tadashi?" Oichi finally voiced, dredging the Auroran up from the void. She had watched him just sit there, perfectly passive and in total silence, like a puppet that had just had its strings cut. Had it not been for the shallow breaths, he might as well been a corpse for the past few minutes - and like a revenant, life sprung back across his features at hearing her concern; wiping away the rigor mortis of shock and guilt and replacing it with the still deadness of serenity.
Tadashi's head creaked over to his side, lifeless grey meeting terrified brown. And Oichi could only watch on in horror as the corners of his lips twitched for the hair of a second, before slowly inching upwards into the faintest shadow of a smile.
"I'm perfectly fine, Oichi."
He didn't flinch.