Ryuu learnt to know people by observation, and yet, that didn't always include a friendship springing up amid the roots and the vines. Just Mitsuhide had come by before, usually with Prince Zen, to visit Shirayuki. And Ryuu was her superior, so of course, he happened to see the sometimes bigger than expected group of visitors.
But Ryuu kept to himself; it was easier that way. No need to dive head first into unnecessary social interaction. Shirayuki can go on a few minutes break to talk to them or whatever, just Ryuu was background noise or background silence. Flittering from task to task, not with the energy of someone his age, but with the calm coolness of someone much older.
And then, it happened. And if people say opposites attract in friendship or something similar, Ryuu really couldn't argue anymore. He'd say he much prefers the quiet, but most moments with Obi or Shirayuki aren't the dead of quietness anyway. And Garack and the others could liven up situations.
Just he'd still have an argument from the working perspective up until now; well, I work with this noisy bunch, sort of, so it can't be helped. It's not because I enjoy this noisy sort of chaos. And yet, when this friendship blooms; it doesn't matter how rough the soil is or how slow Ryuu is to take to people.
Ryuu isn't entirely sure why Mitsuhide wants to be his friend, just that the older man definitely does. Showing up, asking random questions, like Ryuu is going to suddenly teach a knight herbology, and all's going to go well.
Ryuu tries to ward him off with short and often curt answers; he's not one for active conversations. But Mitsuhide's here almost every day now, to ask about the plants here. What do the seeds look like? What does the plant do? That flower's pretty, isn't it?
Ryuu tries to tell him that the pretty plant is poisonous, and that they are working on an antidote, in case that plant is ingested. And antidotes sometimes benefit from the poison, but that's a little hard to explain without using much words or while looking up at such a wide, interested smile.
And Ryuu isn't used to this. Zen and Obi ask their questions of Shirayuki, and Shirayuki's questions are completely scientific. Not whatever this is. Just, Mitsuhide's here, on his breaks, to learn about plants, and that makes no sense.
Eventually, Mitsuhide cracks. "I was just worried, that if something comes up and Shirayuki or you or any other herbalist wasn't around, that I wouldn't be able to save Zen." Mitsuhide swallows past what Ryuu imagines is a lump in his throat.
"Okay." And Ryuu sounds uncaring, but he isn't really, as he shows Mitsuhide the ropes to a few basic cures. And Mitsuhide is the spitting image of the ever faithful student, if a little slow on learning some of the steps.
Ryuu doesn't know why his heart feels a little softer around the knight, almost the way it feels around Shirayuki and Obi. A friendship buds when you least expect it to sometimes.
So, Ryuu offers what he can in herbalist lessons, not expecting to one day want the favor acted upon in reverse.
The tremors don't want to leave Ryuu's fingertips, like they start there and work their way up his arm. And he is already muffling what feels like a sob at the back of his throat, and Mitsuhide is watching him. Brown eyes crinkled in worry, and Ryuu isn't sure what to tell him.
"Teach me swordsmanship." Comes out instead. And Ryuu's biting his tongue, because that is both what he means and what he doesn't. Teach me, so I'm safe. Teach me, so they don't have to worry about me. Teach me, so I can protect her.
"Sure." Mitsuhide says instead, when Ryuu expects chatter or concern or a denial, something.
"Really?" Ryuu's throat is dry, and he isn't sure whether it's from the request that tore it's way out of his throat or if it's from the PTSD, that he can't quite shake off.
"Yeah, you taught me the basics of herbology." Mitsuhide grins, and he looks so much younger all of a sudden, and like sunshine in just a moment. "The least I can do is teach you the basics of swordsmanship." But when he looks away, the sneak peek of his eyes, shows Ryuu that there's still a worried glint to them.
Mitsuhide was scared too, once he knew.
It relaxes something in Ryuu's shoulders, and he spends his breaks, on the training ground, under Mitsuhide's clear and gentle guidance. Swordsmanship is never rough with Mitsuhide, because he isn't rough. Instead it's encouraging words, an awkwardly timed joke, that still manages to bring a smile to Ryuu's lips, and instruction.
It's different to be the student and have Mitsuhide be the teacher, but Ryuu decides that he kind of likes this dynamic, like he kind of liked when Mitsuhide was his student, eager to learn, even without the right questions.