Mitsuhide had never felt the weight of his sword like that moment before. A sword could be weighted, dragging down the scabbard, dragging down the body. And it felt like his sword was unbelievably heavy at his side, watching a twelve-year-old break. Zen was just a kid, and Mitsuhide never felt more useless.
But he stayed; already, he served him, not as an unfeeling post, but as a guard and maybe one day a friend. A team works as one unit, like two people coexisting as one person, one creation. And Mitsuhide had to act in Zen's defense, wanted to, not just duty bound and unfeeling, but sympathetic and caring.
Just today, he feels like a guard drenched in not quite regret but something similar. He doesn't regret saving Zen's life and taking another life, but he does grieve with Zen, and maybe that's the worst part. Mitsuhide doesn't have any of the feel good feelings for Atri or any of the loyalty towards him, but he grieves him regardless.
There's a lot to them here. Teamwork perhaps is the right word, often at odds, but drawn back together again. Or maybe that isn't the right word for losing chess to Kiki so often or even the right word for shouldering her pain on his shoulders and accepting the guilt of it.
If Zen didn't already feel like Mitsuhide's best friend, he'd argue that Kiki is. With all of her strengths, her rare vulnerability, the way she challenges him, and helps him to grow. So, if asked, he'd state that Kiki is his best female friend and that Zen is his best male friend, but even those words don't do any justice to any of this.
He's been by Kiki's side, killing bandits, been by her side when she really needs someone there, laughed with her, joked with her, gotten angry at her, and the list goes on and on. He loves her, like this. A best friend, a companion, one who pulls him up through the rubble and still has time to give him a lesson. It's hard to come by, even harder to grasp when it arrives.
Mitsuhide feels so strong, because Kiki is there by his side. He dreads any split up of their team, but he knows she won't just disappear, that somehow they'll keep connected. It's just hard to imagine a life without daily interaction with Kiki, without quick quips, a slight smile, a practice swordfight, and all of the little moments in between.
Sometimes distance makes it hard to gain a certain level of confidence, and Shirayuki is grateful that Obi is here by her side now, a sort of steady weight to remain her of home, the way it had felt by everyone's side: Kiki's, Zen's, Mitsuhide's, Obi's. It's incredible to think about.
And with a smile from Obi or a warmhearted joke or even an offered hand, she feels better connected to those back home, but also better connected to Obi. It's surreal how much meaning friends can bring into your life, when you've only had companions before.
Obi is one of her closest friends, and so is Ryuu. But also, Mitsuhide and Kiki. Also, Zen, but in a very different way that is also almost the same way. It's hard to define what marks the difference between friendship and romance, especially since both are so interwoven with each other.
She loves Zen, and there's a friendship there, sprinkled with something else as well. But it's here, in Lyrias, where Obi makes Shirayuki feel most at home, in the quiet and in the noise. And here, that she knows that everything will be okay when she is reunited with the others once again.
Obi's not used to friendship feeling mutual or even the way that others will care for him so much, so it's hard to really find the words for all of this, especially as they all come together, and you would have to be blind to not notice how Kiki's slight smile is a little bit fuller now.
Or the way that Shirayuki's hair spills out of a half hearted bun, how she smiles and laughs, drink nearly forgotten in her hand. It's nothing alcoholic, of course, but she's forgetting it just the same.
Or the way that Zen hasn't looked this happy in ages, hand slipping into Shirayuki's free hand, like a forgotten motion on a familiar clock face, a sort of afterthought.
Or even the way, Mitsuhide looks more relaxed. Like his job had drained him of joy over and over again, somehow within the busyness of it, and being back together, a group of five has made his life, easing all of the stress right out of him.
And maybe it shows in Obi's eyes too. They feel almost wet, so they must be shiny. And he's grinning so wide, that he's pretty sure his face will fall off. But the whole team's together again, and maybe it's only for a few days at a time, but they are beautiful ones.
There's a chill to the air, but laughter takes it right out of the room, and it's here that they are the happiest they've felt in a while. It's here that the whole group is together, the friendship drawn close once more.
And Obi isn't entirely sure why this group means so much to him, but right now, he can't help but love it regardless.