If Riku of the Blue were to be completely honest, he did not really care much for his job as at the Military.
Rounds, justice, crime and discipline. He had enough of it all. He preferred the contemplative nature of calm judgement and due process, rather than the often boredom of lonely walks around the island hoping to catch some evildoer on the act.
He is thankful for the exercise, and believes he has developed keen senses due to his training, but he is growing weary of the work. It might be time to quit, return to the Blue and focus on other sorts of matters.
The streets were cold. It did not matter if it was the peak of summer or the middle of winter, there was a frigidness in the night air that befell their island year-round, perhaps to remind them of the blessings of Lady Amaterasu.
Or maybe that was just him.
Footsteps clattered loudly, the sound of shuffling bodies and breathy moans that he chose to ignore. That night was not the night to hunt down hormone-ridden teenagers, and he supposed that if they worked that hard to meet this late, desperation was enough of an excuse.
Still, a smile graced his lips when he heard them pause. He could picture the hands clapped over mouths and the sudden fear of being caught. It was an odd sort of power he found curious to see in exercise, but glad to attest to it, as it reminds him that not all love is found across caste and there were some lucky few whose only concern was a scolding from a soldier. It took some weight out of his back.
Dimly, he considered whether they would continue once his steps receded. If they would finish the job, or rather try to sneak behind a wharf for the perfunctory privacy. Perhaps they would end it there, leave the other hanging with a small kiss that promised, another time.
Riku shook the thoughts from his head, forearm prickling at the idea of adolescence. Sneaking around and the adrenaline rushing at the prospect of being found by a parent. He stopped those questions of what if before he got to the one person who always made that inquiry itch in his mind.
He kept moving, ignoring every other sound and sign that came from hidden alcoves and echoed around corners. They stopped at each passing, and most continued when he was out of earshot.
Continuing, he focused on finishing the last of his rounds. His legs locked, however, when he sensed a familiar gait.
Of course, he recognized it. How could he not? Riku of the Blue would probably know the source of that noise a hundred different ways, perhaps more, and that identifiable pace was ingrained into his mind as tightly as the ability to speak.
He froze, gauging the situation before any action. Olympia is near, but not close enough for him to easily find. There was a break in movement, scuffling, and then…
A small sob.
His brow furrowed, following the source almost subconsciously, and it is with great caution that he took his next few steps, ears perking up when the hiccup met them. Then, he was placing puzzle pieces together, trying to find an explanation for the fact that she was crying in the middle of the street at this hour.
It was so cold.
He sped up, suddenly inclined to find her and heal her of whatever ailment currently plagued her system. Sure, they encountered each other daily, either on the Kunado gate, at his Yomi rounds or paths crossing at the street, but when was the last time Riku had truly been with his fiancée?
His heart pounded, guilt festered, stomach churned. Each only worsened as he tracked her down, waving off Wakasa as he gave him a questioning gaze whilst finishing his own duties. He held himself together, exuding determination, seeking the Maiden of the White out like it was the only job that mattered.
Maybe it was.
Still, those parasitic feelings were overshadowed with something else the second he caught sight of her; caught sight of her curled-up form, hunched over in one of the far-off corners of the beach expanse that even the Military was told not to bother with.
Olympia knew that. Of course, she did.
The energy that came with his presence, that constant air of intimidation that she had simply been told of, floated amongst the dust, drawing silence. She had never been scared of him. Riku had always prided her for that fact alone.
Alas, here she was, hiding deeper within herself at the mere prospect of another. It made his heart stutter, anger being fuelled until it felt like there was only rage in his system, bubbling over and completely unforgiving as he stalked towards the girl.
He did not notice the coarse sand and the dampness of the soil staining his trousers as he crouched in front of her. It was only when he dropped one knee down that he remembered, in spite of that white-hot prickling, that it was freezing.
"Who?" He demanded.
Olympia flinched back when he grasped her arm, and he buried down the small hurt, infinitesimal to the agony at seeing her like this.
"Who did this?" The man asked one more time, tapping on his commanding voice to retain his frustration. "Was it Douma again?"
The White girl did not look up, only reduced herself, as if she were trying to be as small as possible. The sobs had increased in calibre, louder and ricocheting like the worst fireworks he had ever heard inside of his skull.
"Byakuya, stop." The man held both of her thin arms on his hands. "Please breathe, I need you to breathe."
When she shook her head, a slight rocking motion taking over her body, he doubled his efforts. His fingers were gentle when they wrapped around her wrists, encircling them entirely as he pulled once more.
It worked, until he got a good look at her face. That is when he dropped that grip, opting to tilt her jaw up instead. There was too much panic, fear and anxiety contorting her usually serene expression, making her shiver and shake and every thought in his mind dwindled down to just the one where he helped her.
Revenge or comfort, whatever medicine she craved.
Puffy, red, exhausted, Olympia peered up at him. Her breaths were uneven, painful in her lungs as she struggled to get them down. The cold air did not help, serving to make them bubble in her throat, hysteria increasing.
Nausea prevailed, and she clenched her eyes shut, pushing it down her throat, hoping to avoid another pathetic display. Her head was screaming loudly at her, replaying the nightmare she would not want to remember ever in her life, and having it replay in gore and vivid detail across her eyelids.
She could not so much as blink without the terror clotting in her vocal cords, emitting sobs that turned to coughs, a minor suffocation that had Riku holding both sides of her head firmly, making her meet his eyes.
"Slow down. You can do it." He murmured, using his thumbs to wipe the wet patches on her cheekbones.
While she initially had tried to get away from him, the proper instating of his arrival had she staring at him widely, nearly begging him to make it stop.
When he noticed the flickering of her pupils, the reaction he had been waiting for, he began to move. He situated himself against the rock, drawing her into his lap and giving physical reminders of existence.
His biceps flexed around her, protective in nature, shielding her from any observers, even if they were drunkards stumbling their way home. She found her fingers tangled in the folds of his kimono, practically tearing it off his body as she scrabbled.
Byakuya thought she had herself under control, enough so that she could at least explain to him that she was not injured. Because the way he was holding her made her think that she was some sort of flower, perhaps a delicate ikebana arrangement. His care made her think she was something delicate and precious and that the sheer thought of her being hurt drove him mad.
That was not the case, and she would not want her fiancé to think that of her, but when she opened her mouth to tell him that, looking up at him through the tears, nothing but another sob tumbled out.
Riku had been waiting for her response, but as the crying worsened, he only tucked her closer into his body, hiding her away and providing a world of her own, separated from the physical manifestation around them by his body and will. This is a world contained in gasping breaths and reassuring whispers, tear-soaked cloth and trembling fingers. The gaps and spaces between reality and the safe haven that he solely created, designed for just the both of them, and unwelcoming of anyone else.
The Maiden of the White was tangled up with him in the same proximity that she had been a thousand times before. Times of passion and euphoria, not of anxiety attacks and nightmares. Yet here she was, a new type of intimacy formed as he gave her a balm for her fears.
"Tell me who it was. Tell me what happened. I will fix it all." He kissed sher temple swiftly, a promise that he would. And he did not understand when she shook sher head, incapable of swearing it was simply a dream.
"Riku, you…" She mumbled, heartbeat stabling as she matched the movements, the inhales and exhales, of her chest to his. A mirror to copy from, guiding her back.
"Yes, love?" He was patient, letting her gather herself gradually.
"I…"
A voice cut Byakuya off, and she shuddered at the intrusion.
"Riku!" The grave timbre called.
Sounds were too muddled for her to clearly discern who it was, and the remaining dregs of senses were already being spent on the male holding her, tighter as he pushed her into his shoulder, keeping her there.
"Go, Wakasa. I am fine." The blonde could hear a slight threat lacing his tone, hardening it.
Footsteps shuffled closer, and they became too loud, evoking some semblance of a sob out of her. All the work calming down had been for nothing, because there was water in her lungs once more, drowning her from the inside out as she were being exposed, open for scrutiny and judgment and peering looks from those she would rather not be anywhere near.
"What…?"
Olympia did not hear the rest of the question, caught under the surface of a lake, anything above unreachable. She held onto Riku like an anchor, begging him to not let her drift off, perhaps even stay down there for a while longer, some middle ground where she could find peace.
His next words came out low, and she only knew what they were because she had pushed that much closer against him, his throat vibrating on the top of her head.
"Leave, Wakasa. I—we—are fine. I will see you in Kunado Gate tomorrow."
She did not bother focusing on the rest, letting the steady sound of his breathing bring her back for the second time, and maybe Wakasa of the Green finally listened, because the discussion was short, curt. Terse.
The next thing the Maiden of the White knew, her fiancé was tilting her face up, saying something she could not hear, lips moving so fast it made her head hurt.
"Byakuya, come back. You are safe, I promise." There's such rare terror in his tenor, something that is a shock to her system, ice-water injected directly into her veins, that it had her blinking rapidly.
"I am sorry." Olympia mumbled, snapping out of the trance, minor waves of adrenaline still having her flinching every few minutes. "I am fine now."
He stared at the woman for a moment. He brushed away tears she had not even realized has fallen and smiled at her in the way that always made her heart soar.
"You have done nothing wrong, love. I am just a bit worried. Can you tell me what happened, please?" He asks once more, calm and collected. Yet, the edge on him still lingered, but it was more of a comfort now. A safety net.
She took deep breaths like he had been instructing the whole time, throat burning from the anxiety attack she had been working through for the past hour.
"You look tired." The blonde commented.
"I am worried." He corrected.
"It is late and I am keeping you." She countered.
He responded nothing to her affirmation, only gazing at her inquisitively. When she did not begin to explain, as she was stuck in a headspace that was accompanied by a painful migraine and a touch of disassociation, Riku took matters into his own hands.
Reality faded in a new way as he helped her up, secured safely under his arm as he began walking her up the hill and away from the beach.
Olympia did not know that she was shaking, that she was sniffling and wringing her fingers until they were raw. Her vision kept flipping, shots of them walking from afar, the world taken out of perspective, then she would be thrust back into her own body, staring down at her hands like they were the problem and the solution at the same time.
"Make it stop." She mumbled, tripping over her two feet as he unlocked the door to her cottage, holding the door open for her to walk in first, even when she would not move, unwilling to let go so soon.
"You are safe and well, love. We are almost there." The long-haired man encouraged, a steady hand on her lower back.
Olympia nodded as he helped her through the doorway. She did not often spend nights with Riku, as his position in the Military and the Blue evoked a sense of decorum that had to be kept even against the spirit of public honesty, but almost all of them had been in this old sanctum of hers. Maiden she is no more, and she had not been for quite a while now.
The minute she had entered the cottage, having everything neatly positioned where she placed them, the air clean and smelling like sea and driftwood, just as she liked it, she relaxed. He helped she get her shoes off, all her clothes, save for undergarments, following and replaced by one of the quilts stocked on the chest by the bed.
It took a few breaths, milliseconds of the fabric swallowing her, for her to stumble into his chest. The dim lighting was not a stressor, his cologne not so much an irritant as it was a relaxant. She buried herself into his warmth, just as his hands threaded through her tresses, plucking out the hairpins she completely forgot about when she had fallen asleep earlier.
Olympia moaned as he gently massaged her strained scalp, and his chuckle lilted in her ears. Her sniffle was next, almost juvenile as he held her body impossibly close.
"I had a nightmare." Byakuya finally shed light on the matter, watching the bed cautiously.
"Was it that bad?" He asked, absentmindedly running up and down her back, trying to relieve the tension.
Her eyes watered, but she managed to keep going this time. "I do not remember much of it, honestly, but I guess it was bad enough to have me break out of the manor to cry at the beach, right?" She attempted humour, but her voice broke at the end. "I think it was about the Calamity. I wanted to edge closer to Tennyo Island, that is why I walked so far."
"It is over now. You are safe." Riku mumbled the reassurances over and over, grounding her to him. "Do you want to lay down?"
She did not respond, merely dipping her head in consent. He gripped her hand as he led her toward the mattress, helping her on and shutting out the curtains, not to let the moonlight on her face. He positioned her head on his chest, skimming her arms in a manner that had shuddering exhales leaving her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The man broached after a few minutes, picking up on her half-lidded eyes, his pulse lulling her away.
The exhaustion hit her with impossible strength, all bits of adrenaline disappearing with only small aftershocks left in their wake. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, the part that felt so pathetic now that it was over.
"I do not know." Another sliver along vowels and consonants made her waver.
His white uniform absorbed the next bout of tears.
"Tomorrow." She decided. "We can talk tomorrow."
Byakuya heard him hum in agreement, allowing her to curl tightly into his side, but her eyes stayed open.
It must have been past one in the morning, much later than his Military duties required. That is when the guilt hit her, she is keeping him up this late because she had a bad dream. Absolutely pathetic.
"I am sorry." She whispered again, tracing up to his face and running her hand through his hair for mutual comfort. "I am really sorry, Riku."
He was more awake than she had expected, coming out clear. "Do not apologize. You know you can find me whenever you need, right?"
"I feel I was looking for you the entire time, to be honest."
Another kiss to the crown of her head.
Silence trickled in, permeated the air with a tranquil sort of levelness. The kind that would be ideal to fall asleep, to wake up the same way. Slow and reassured that it will happen again and again.
Olympia slid her hand down to his left forearm. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when she did so, unsurety crawling up his body and wrapping an unkind fist around his throat. He does not pull away, not like he once did, but there was still thunder crackling in his bones as she raises the arm above her.
His fiancée is wrapped on the junction of his arm and torso, settled and tucked there, staring into the air and finding the angles and curves of something so fragile. She lined his digits, rings, veins with gentle fingertips, moving down to his wrist. She gave the same treatment, showing cold skin warm touches, perhaps assuring herself that he was right next to her.
"I will watch you tonight." Riku offered. "Do not worry about a thing. I shall wake you up if you have another terrible nightmare."
Byakuya drops her grip, surprise stealing her face. "You do not have to do such a thing. I have already kept she up long enough. I will be fine, and you need some sleep of your own."
She cursed the selfish part of her that hoped he would refuse her statement, that hoped that she could have someone to watch her, at least for a little bit.
"My patrol starts after lunch tomorrow. I will sleep then." He stated with finality
"You really do not…"
He interrupted the woman. "Will it make you feel better? Answer honestly."
After too quick a beat, she nodded. A flush immediately ran through her, and it only got worse when he chuckled lowly.
Finally, she replied, "Yes, but I will—"
"It is fine, love. Go to sleep. I will be here when you wake up." He shifted his arms, turning to get her as comfortable as possible. The opportunity was open.
It was almost embarrassing how promptly she sunk into that solace. How quickly her eyes fell shut, stray tears falling but nothing compared to her earlier onslaught. His breathing told her that he was holding true to his promise, that he was awake, making sure that nothing else could harm her.
He picked up a book, and, using the lowest setting on the lamp on her bedside, as it was not enough to disturb her, to light up the pages. He may have disregarded his job at the Military, but he would be eternally grateful that it gave him this opportunity.