Keiji is snapped from his midnight training by a tearful Corrin.

Sincerity

"If I passed, would you miss me?" Words which echo all too often in your thoughts. Words you want to forget.

There are plenty of tasks in the average day to keep you from reminders of the past. Training outside in the darkest of midnight is one such regularity. You are Keiji of the town of Izami. You're not some weakling or some feeble child. You won't shirk your duties. You're stubborn like that; it's a trait that has pushed many of the people you once called friends away. You'll serve your princess and your country, even if your country has done little for you.

After all, you can't walk forwards if you're always looking back. Or so dearest mother often said.

Prepared, you draw your sword; drink from this evening's carousing with Subaki still swims through your veins.

Hana may misunderstand your reasons for aspiring to become stronger, but you must forge ahead. Midnight's solitude is as good a time as any to hone your skills, too. You swear by it, even if of most other samurai aren't as intense in their focus.

"Hya!" A swing of your blade, followed by a parry. Your footwork's off, but you'll work on it. You have to. "It's do or die on the battlefield."

Nohrians are in your mind's eye. They're to the left and to the right; shadows in your vision. With slashes of steel, you'll destroy them all. Just as you would in the heat of any real moment. First? The Knight. If he catches you with that spear he'll pierce your chest, and that'll be the end of you.

Nextly is the Fighter. His hulking weapon makes him dangerous, but his lack of protection makes him easy to predict. His swings with a two-handed bastard of an axe aim to keep you at bay. The second he recoils, you'll cut a hole in his middle. His kind always go down in the end.

You've killed enough of these black-steel-clad monsters in your time. You'll likely to kill more, too. All in His name. The man who walked away.

"Father, I'll see you again soon," you called out on the day he went off to battle, a sword in his hand and a duffel bag over his shoulder. He smiled lovingly at your enthusiasm. He told you he'd be back soon. He also made you promise you'd look after your mother.

That was the day when you first realized people could lie.

You still remember dearest mother crying on the doorstep when she received news from your old man's comrades. "We're so sorry, Kasumi," one told her with a heavy heart and a solemn smile, "He deflected the blade, but they struck him in the side. He called your name... until the final moment."

'Duty' became your word from then on. You filled Father's shoes willingly. You took the money mother provided and went off in search of the finest swordmaster sensei Izami had to offer. From then on kept your sword close and visions of your enemies closer - the wicked soldiers of Nohr.

You stumbled upon pleasant distractions from payback at times of course, but you never diverged from your overall goal.

"I miss you, you old bastard," you smile sadly, cutting a swath through the wind, making it yours to command.

With strength and dedication you've fought to bring an end to all this. Much like wise Lord Ryoma, you want to close the curtains on Nohr.

As time goes on you sometimes feel hopeless, however. War still rages despite your best efforts.

"Keiji? I thought it was you..." Corrin. There's no mistaking that voice. You'd pick it out of a crowd of roaring merchants. You'd even trek across the dry steppes of the Hoshidan Tribelands if it meant hearing it again. A voice that calms you; which cools your fury and eases your pain.

"Lady Corrin." You turn around and sheathe your blade. Then you bow on hand and knee as the dragoness walks out from the trees.

"Don't bow," she insists, pulling you upright from your show of respect by the shoulders.

There are tears in the girl's eyes - streams of watery pain.

"What's wrong?" You ask. "Please... talk to me."

The girl throws her arms around your shoulders and squeezes you, as though you'll fade into the abyss if she ever lets go. "My brother," she whimpers, drying her eyes against the shoulder of your swordsman's coat. Her fingernails dig into the fabric of your clothing. "Takumi has fallen sick... a rare disease. He picked it up from Wolveskin Peak, Sakura says. He- He'll die if we don't go in search of a cure..."

"Lord Takumi? His health is failing?!" Your eyes widen amidst the shock.

"I'm afraid so," Corrin sighs.

Takumi is idolized the kingdom over by almost every bowman. His strikes are so accurate, so pristine and perfect. Out of all who might fall ill like this, you would expect him to be the last. Those within the Hoshidan garrisons see him (like the rest of his siblings) as an exceptional leader.

"Gods help us," you whisper. Bringing Corrin close to your chest, you shush her whimpers. She's so fragile, as though made like glass. You fear she'll crumble if you don't use the utmost care. "There must be something we can do, milady? Surely. This war we wage will be for naught of his lordship passes."

"There is, Keiji... But it is something of a long shot, I must admit. Our hope is that Palace Macarath has the supplies we need to administer a cure. Ryoma fears a full garrison defends it though. So I'll have to go there myself, with the army."

So, her ladyship plans to go into battle. It's true what they say around camp about her: she'll put her own safety to the winds if it protects those she cares for. A noble sentiment, one you aspire to.

"Then I pray you be careful, my dear lady," you utter gently, hopefully. Corrin leans close and presses her lips to yours for a brief instant. She smiles at you thereafter, her eyes red and sore from her tearful display. "My prayers and best wishes go with you."

A deep-rooted pain lingers in your chest; through you fight against all rhyme and reason to prevent it from showing. You don't take well to those you care about being thrust into battle - especially when there's a chance they might suffer or worse, fall captive. Hana's mistreatment saw to that.

Regardless, you must support Corrin. It is your duty as a soldier in her service. "If there is anything I might do milady, just ask," you offer.

"Actually, Keiji," the princess pauses, looking into your eyes hopefully, "I have a request."

"Then please make it, milady." You bow your head. "If there is aught I might do, I shall do it."

Relinquishing her hold upon you, Corrin throws herself to your feet in prostration. "Would you and Felicia watch over my brother while I enter Macarath? He needs protection in his weakened state, and there are none I trust more than the two of you. Well, aside Jakob, but he'll be beside me while we seek out the medicine."

She calls such an overwhelmingly important task a simple request? You're to be left (alongside the good lady's trusted retainer) with the goal of protecting royalty! There's no way you dare refuse such a request. "You need not ask, milady." You offer the dragoness your hand, "Now please, stand. I can't have you bowing at my feet like this. It's not right... You're of noble blood, after all."

Corrin rises and puts a finger to your lips. "I'm sorry, but no," she answers with a shake of the head, those white locks of hers fluttering in the wind. "You're my friend, and I'll bow to you if I wish. Do you honestly think your birthright makes you less of a person in my eyes, Keiji?"

"Not at all, milady, but you deserve respect.

The dragoness bites her lip nervously, her cheeks reddening. "And I thank you for that, really I do. You mean a great deal to me, even though I've only known you for a short time." Her feelings made clear, Corrin composes herself with a shaky rasp. "That said; I wish to keep you nearby. Even if you are simply watching after Takumi for me - I wish to know you're there. It's not an order... but a request, from a girl like any other. Not your princess."

This is why you've come to cherish Corrin so dearly. She is lethal with her Yato blade, and demure of heart in ways you've seldom known.

Smiling warmly, you take the girl's hands into yours. "I'll help you my lady, of course. None will harm Lord Takumi while I'm at his beck and call." It's here and now that Miss Felicia comes to mind. "And I imagine Felicia will do a fine job tripping over some of our enemies, should they challenge us."

Corrin stifles a snort of laughter, a hand raised to her mouth. "How mean!" she snickers. "She'd cry if she heard you saying such things."

"I jest. Felicia is wonderful, despite her missteps."

The two of you share in a hearty laugh. Just as the night she slept beside you, you feel alive. This tender moment fills to the brim with happiness as well; much unlike the lost wanderer filled with anger and in search of answers that you are at times. You're content. So much so that your heart swells, and a lonesome tear rolls down your cheek.

"What's wrong?" Corrin asks, drying your cheek with a soft fingertip. "You're not scared are you?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine. Don't fret," you reassure your mistress, embracing her again. "Just fine."

Something binds you to this woman. A magical spell, perhaps. Or something more.

You recall Felicia's words of wisdom earlier this evening:

"You my dearest Keiji... are in love. I know the sensation too well."

You can't help but wonder if the maid is right.

"Keiji?" Corrin speaks up with a tiny, nervous smile, "Can I stay beside you again tonight?"

A request you could never refuse. "Of course, milady."

"Corrin, just 'Corrin' when we're alone together, okay?"

"But of course, Corrin."

Under the cover of nightfall the two of you return to your tent, hand-in-hand

It's freezing tonight, and you want nothing more than to snuggle up with your cherished princess.

To be continued...

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