This is on Ao3 under the same title and username! Please check it out there for more in depth author's notes and summaries :D
He didn't sign up for this.
He signed up, studied his ass off to be healer, to tap the magic inside him and watch it curl from his fingertips to relieve burns and mend sores. He didn't sign up to be snatched away from his family and his sickly sister by the kingdom's guards, to join the campaign against the yellow dragon in a far off mountain, surrounded by dense forest. He didn't sign up to have to scavenge for herbs in order to avoid using that freaky voodoo shit.
Yamaguchi winced as hands brushed past a thorny bush. He held his hand up to the broken sunlight, watching as blood beaded out from the cuts.
He glanced around furtively. No one in sight, just endless trees and waist high bushes. He knew that their encampment was a bit further back, but it was hidden by the dense vegetation.
"Alright, alright, let's do this." He quickly whispered out some incantations, and the feeling of magic swelled in his chest, a smile breaking out on his face.
It was nice to be able to practice magic. Every night that he went without, he could feel the magic pushing from the inside of his skin like a thousand ants, making him so itchy that when he woke up his fingernails would be caked with dried blood, but with no visible scars in sight. He must've practiced it unconsciously, then.
The warmth of the magic made his fingers tingle, and he watched as the skin stitched itself back together, and soon the only evidence of a cut was the smears of blood on his fingers.
He quickly brushed it off and continued foraging. He needed some chamomile, rosemary, lavender, and was it his stock of thyme that was running low?
Lost in thought, he yelped as he tripped over something in his path. The air was pushed out of him as he fell, and Yamaguchi coughed and wheezed as he tried to regain his breath.
There wasn't usually any debris on this path…? Yamaguchi quickly looked back to what had tripped him-
His breath caught in his throat.
On the ground, a pale boy with blond hair and glasses lay in a pool of blood-stained leaf litter. Yamaguchi's eyes were drawn to the large puncture wound near the belly. Oh, man… that didn't look good.
Yamaguchi crouched next to the prone figure, holding a hand over the blond's mouth in order to test if he was still breathing.
A faint breath.
Yamaguchi frowned. Was it his imagination or was it slightly cold? And now that he thought about it, what was this person doing here to be injured to this extent?
He shook his head free of those thoughts. The kingdom had sent numerous campaigns to this mountain in hopes of defeating the dragon, and this man could just be a straggler belonging to one of them. Even so, many others, no matter if they were serfs or nobles, sought out the dragon in hopes of defeating it and gaining glory.
"Foolish," Yamaguchi bit out, tears welling up in his eyes. Why would anyone in their right minds head for the jaws of certain death?
But he couldn't think about that now, he had to heal this man. He could bring him back to the encampment, but then the knights wouldn't let him use magic…
Yamaguchi glanced up. The sun was blocked by the dense foliage, but it was still bright, and surely the knights wouldn't start looking for him yet. Would they even care enough to search for him? Or would they send a letter home, claiming that his life was taken by the dragon, that he died a hero's death for the kingdom?
A bitter taste crawled into his mouth, but he swallowed it down to focus on the task at hand. He placed his hand gently near the wound, and once more whispered incantations.
His fingers numbed, and he watched the wound carefully. Depending on where the magic decided to prioritize its work, Yamaguchi could determine where the worst of the damage was.
So far, no visible changes, but he could feel the magic moving from his fingertips to the man's body. That must mean that the worst of it was internal. Yamaguchi gritted his teeth. This type of wound would spell death without magic, so why were the knights so adamant against him using it?!
Yamaguchi pushed back his feelings of anger. It might interfere with his spell, roughly yanking together skin and shoving organs back in place. He needed to be calm.
He took a steadying breath, already feeling the onset of magical exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders and the tremble in his hands. But the man's injury still didn't look better? How bad was his injury in the first place? Maybe just a bit more wouldn't hurt-
Yamaguchi tasted metal, and wetness tickled his nostrils. He clamped his free hand to his nose, cursing when he pulled it away glistening red.
He immediately held his nose and ceased his magic, continually cursing his lack of foresight. Great, a bloody nose was going to be harder to hide than just blood smeared on his hands- he could just find a stream to rinse it off in. Yamaguchi stood up, fighting the wave of dizziness that made his knees buckle and steadying himself on a nearby trunk.
He glanced up again. The sun hadn't moved much, and Yamaguchi thanked his lucky stars that at least he hadn't passed out.
But then again, if he went back empty handed, the knights would be suspicious. Maybe he could just say that he fell off a small cliff, and was too exhausted to forage today. Besides, his own safety wasn't the biggest concern…
Yamaguchi looked at the figure on the ground. The wound was still visible and gaping, but the blood flow had lessened and it seemed that he was breathing easier. But being out in the open like this… probably not the best idea, especially with the dragon around and if he was unable to defend himself.
Before that, though, he should probably seal the wound with bandages so he could check up on it later and continue healing it. He couldn't seal it with magic just yet- it might trap impurities inside and lead to infection.
As he reached into the medicine pouch at his side, Yamaguchi let his thoughts wander.
Where did this person come from? Why wasn't he wearing any armor? ...Was he part of the mad m- Maybe he was a farmer? But, no, he wore glasses, and his face was a bit too pale to speak of any outdoor labor. And speaking of his complexion… that, and his blond hair he probably was from further up north. If he were to open his eyes, would they be electric blue?
Slowly, Yamaguchi propped the man into a sitting position to loop the bandage around his back, careful of his long arms littered with numerous small scratches and his wounded midsection.
Yamaguchi wracked his brain to think of any place where he could leave this person while he healed. There was a cave that he found while searching for herbs, maybe that could work? And it wasn't too far from their current location.
Gritting his teeth, Yamaguchi slowly maneuvered the man onto his back. Picking his way through the forest, navigating the protruding roots and slippery leaves, he slowly stumbled his way there.
The man's head lolled on his shoulder, and eventually the frames of his glasses pressed into the back of Yamaguchi's head. He prayed that he wouldn't lose his footing and spill his precious cargo onto the forest floor.
Forest path and vegetation gave way to rocks and gravel, and they broke free of the trees.
There.
Just at the base of the mountain, the mouth hidden partially by a boulder, was a cave. It should be mostly shielded from the elements, and Yamaguchi trudged into its shelter.
The inside was dark, with only a slim sliver of light from the entrance, and he slowly set down the unconscious man.
After a moment of thought, Yamaguchi took off his outer tunic, folded it up, and placed it under the blond's head. He hurried his way back to the camp, hoping that the knights wouldn't be too hard on him today.
No such luck. The minute Yamaguchi stepped back into the circle of tents, the knights' attention snapped onto him like a pack of hungry dogs.
"There he is!" One of them, cheered in false joy, "We were beginning to wonder if you'd joined the rest of the mad men."
Yamaguchi shuddered. They knew he hated the mention of them, people driven insane by the dragon, doomed to wander the forest for eternity. There was no worse fate than that- more than being snapped up, or being clawed to death. The image of the blond man's wound rose to his mind with startling clarity and he stopped in his tracks.
Mistake.
"Hey, what got you lost in the clouds for?" The rest of the knights surrounded him, and one of them reached out to slap him on the shoulder. Yamaguchi stumbled, not yet fully recovered from his magic usage in the forest.
The group sniggered, and the person who slapped his shoulder stepped forward, an ugly grin on his face. Kenzou. Yamaguchi hated him the most.
"Aww," Kenzou cooed, "our poor little healer can barely stay standing. Isn't he so cute?"
Faster than Yamaguchi could duck, Kenzou's hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of Yamaguchi's hair. Yamaguchi hissed in pain.
"Where's your stuff? Did you really stay the whole day out just doing nothing? Huh?" Kenzou hoisted him higher, and Yamaguchi had to tiptoe to keep the pressure off his scalp. His vision blurred with tears and he weakly swatted at Kenzou's hand. Kenzou continued his assault. "Do you think we're out here just playing around? Frolicking?"
"I-I wasn't-"
"Fucking useless." With a shove, Kenzou sent Yamaguchi sprawling in the dirt. The grit dug into his palms, leaving pale scratches that would soon swell with red. The taste of iron and splotches of blood mixing with the dust told him that his nose had started bleeding again, and Yamaguchi hastily stemmed the bleeding.
He slowly got to his feet, not making eye contact with any of the knights surrounding him.
"If you weren't our healer, who knows what'd happen to you." Kenzou brushed his hands off. "Get lost."
Yamaguchi didn't need further instruction. He inched past the circle of knights, ignoring their jeers, and fast-walked to his own tent.
He dusted himself off, wincing as he jostled his palms, and collapsed into the bedroll.
He turned his attention to picking out the pieces of rock from under his skin. Could he use…?
No, he's already spent his reserves for today. And even then, the knights would be able to tell.
Ha, knights. Supposedly the most honorable of the kingdom. Maybe the stupid, old king decided to knight any random person since he already sent the previous knights to their death at the foot of this mountain.
The spark of anger curled in his chest and settled into his core, solid and grounding.
The next day, predictably, Yamaguchi was sent out to forage for more herbs. While he had slept, two of the knights had gotten into a brawl that left them with minor scratches and scrapes, but they had still bitched and moaned until Yamaguchi used up the last of his supply on them.
So, Yamaguchi picked his way through the forest, checking the undergrowth for medicinal plants that he might have missed on his previous searches. But this time, he had extra rations tucked under his shirt.
He stepped out of the treeline, taking a deep breath and relishing the open sky, the sense of freedom that the open air in the clearing that they camped in would never give him. Then, he ducked into the cave.
The inside was still as dim as ever, but with a point and whisper, a rock began to glow, illuminating the space with magic.
Yamaguchi surveyed the person again. They were still unconscious, though the tunic he had placed under his head was a bit rumpled, as if the blond had tossed around in his sleep.
That was good, it would be a lot more worrying if he hadn't moved at all.
Holding his breath, Yamaguchi quickly undressed the man's wound, using water to loosen it where dried blood held it stuck fast.
He uncovered the wound and breathed out in relief. It looked relatively normal, and thankfully not swollen or infected.
He sat down next to him, and once more, pressed his hand gently near the wound. His magic reserves had refilled overnight, and he sent it out, pouring it into the blond's body.
He watched the wound like a hawk. There seemed to be visual improvement today- he could actually see the red muscle underneath slowly knitting itself together.
Hmm. How did his wound improve that much overnight? Oh well, improvement was improvement.
To prevent himself from becoming too exhausted like last time, Yamaguchi took periodic breaks, taking some rations out to snack on. The cave seemed a bit empty, and to fill the space, he talked.
Yamaguchi talked about anything and everything, about himself, learning how to conduct magic, his family back home, the knights here, their callousness and foolishness and their plans.
Their iron could pierce through human flesh just fine, but a dragon's scales? Yamaguchi shuddered. The retaliation…
He rambled on about how he wondered what his name was, where he came from, and how he came to be injured in the forest.
Sometime in between humming a song that Yamaguchi would hum to his little sister when she was sick and reminiscing, he felt an uncomfortable sensation crawl over him, making his blood run cold.
The person's chest under his fingertips was rising and falling almost regularly, like he was conscious.
Yamaguchi stilled. No way. Even with magic, a puncture wound of that severity should put someone out for at least a week, assuming that they survived.
Yamaguchi's eyes slowly trailed from the wound, up past the collar of the blond's nondescript clothing.
A pair of golden eyes met his. Sharp, and they seemed to glow with annoyance, edging closer to open hostility.
That makes sense. This man was presumably attacked, mortally wounded, and to wake up in a cave with a stranger while vulnerable and disorientated. Who wouldn't feel a bit scared?
But that's no matter, Yamaguchi's number one patient always told him he had great bedside manners. He threw on his sunniest smile. "Hi there! I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi and I've been taking care of your wounds." He raised both his hands up near his face, palms turned outward so he could show that he was unarmed.
The man's eyes seemed to relax, but then his gaze slid over to the glowing rock and he tensed up again.
Oh, yeah, magic.
"Ack- Please don't be scared, I swear I'm only a healer." Maybe a short demonstration of his weakness in offensive spells would help? "Look, I'm going to shoot my strongest offensive spell at the far wall over there." He gestured to the far end of the cave wall, fully in view of where the man lay.
He pulled the knowledge from the recesses of his memory- really, it had been too long since he used an attacking spell, it's a bit concerning. Biting his lip, he whispered the invocation and swirled his free hand around his right, hoping that he had gotten it right and avoided turning them into scorch marks on the cave floor.
Almost immediately, fire flared to life in his palm, warmth exuding from it, and he thrust it outwards, intending to hurl it into the wall. Instead, it slowly wobbled in that direction, before falling and poofing out of existence.
"Ah." Yamaguchi glanced down to gauge the person's reaction.
His gaze was fixed on the place where the fireball poofed out of existence. Yamaguchi followed his line of sight, noticing the lack of burn marks on the floor. Wow. He was worse than he thought.
Yamaguchi looked back at the stranger. Their eyes met, and the golden eyes looked unimpressed, like he was asking, Is that all?
Huffing, Yamaguchi crossed his arms. "Yes, I told you I wasn't good at offensive magic! Do you trust me now?"
The blond rolled his eyes, which Yamaguchi took as reluctant confirmation. "I'm going to keep healing you now."
He rested his hand close to the wound, summoning the buzz of magic.
"So…" Yamaguchi started, "Where did you come from?"
His patient's golden eyes turned to him, searching.
Yamaguchi couldn't look away. It was a strange combination of relief that the blond was even alive, much less conscious, and fascination and the color of his eyes was so different from what he expected.
"...the north." The man finally said, his eyebrows pulling together into a stony expression.
"May I ask where in the north?"
"No."
"Oh, okay."
Silence.
Eventually, the blond cracked. He sighed, and spoke up again. "It's…" He waved his hand around weakly in approximation. "It's higher up."
"Higher up? You mean more north?"
"...yeah."
"Then what brought you here? And how'd you get those wounds?"
"A fight. I got attacked." He didn't elaborate further.
"Attacked?!" Yamaguchi exclaimed, the alarm spiking. Was he attacked on the road? By regular bandits? Or by the mad men? "What do you mean attacked? And by whom?"
"Watch your magic." The blond warned, and Yamaguchi immediately tried to quell his worry. "I'm tired. Can we go back to just you talking?"
"Wait, no-" Yamaguchi protested. "This is important-"
The blond's eyes glasses caught the light, flashing, and the words in Yamaguchi's throat vanished. He was going to say something…. What was it?
It was like grasping at mist, watching the vapor swirl around his fingers, intangible. It was like sitting in moonlight from a window at ungodly hours of the morning, ghosts of thoughts drifting in and out as they please. It was like chasing the tail end of an idea, the ripple an idea leaves, but not the idea itself.
Yamaguchi blinked, dazed.
The falling of his patient's chest under his hand snapped him back to his senses, and he shot him a sheepish smile "Sorry, I must've spaced out for a bit there. I have better bedside manners, I promise."
He kept talking, because what else was he to do?
The blond closed his eyes, letting the flow of words wash over them both.
When Yamaguchi slunk back into camp, one of the knights- Kenzou waved him over to sit near the campfire, where the rest of the knights were relaxing.
Bad sign.
Yamaguchi stared longingly in the direction of his own tent, but… if he ignored them now, it would just be worse for himself in the future. Mentally bracing himself, Yamaguchi made his way over to the group and took a seat.
"There's our healer!" Kenzou threw an arm over Yamaguchi's shoulders, and pulled him into a headlock. He reeked of sweat and alcohol. "Me and the rest of the group were just talking about magic! Something you'd know all about, huh?"
Yamaguchi offered a nervous laugh. "Oh, is that so?"
"Yup!" The arm squeezed tighter. "The wonderful side effects of too much magic. Isn't that right?"
The group of knights broke into laughter. "Just look at the healer! Look at his face!" one of them shouted, and Yamaguchi did his best to hide his head as the knights' eyes all focused on his face. "Those freckles could only be the result of witchcraft!"
Kenzou ground his fist into Yamaguchi's head, and Yamaguchi's eyes watered. "Soon enough you'll become part of the mad men! I wonder how long till you join them, hmm? Or would being a witch suit you more?"
"N-neither…" Yamaguchi croaked out.
The conversation tapered off into silence, and Yamaguchi swallowed uneasily.
Why wasn't Kenzou letting go? He usually let go by now, after a few jibes and insults. Yamaguchi raised his eyes, trying to look anywhere that would give him an idea of what was going on.
A few of the knights had gotten up, something in their hands that Yamaguchi couldn't make out.
Alarm bells rang in his head, and he tried to twist out of Kenzou's grasp but Kenzou held fast. "Kenzou," he pleaded, "please let me go. I-I have things to attend to, and-"
Someone gripped his arms, twisting them together painfully. Yamaguchi tried to cry out, but then Kenzou's hand was on his mouth, squeezing his jaw tightly.
Kenzou's voice hissed next to his ear. "You will stay quiet about this." His arms were tugged tighter and someone began binding his ankles together. Yamaguchi let out a muffled yelp. "I don't wanna hear a single peep out of you. Not to the overseer, not to anyone else."
Yamaguchi nodded, heart racing.
Kenzou slowly lifted his hand from Yamaguchi's mouth and released him from the headlock.
Yamaguchi took a deep breath- he couldn't think of any spell that was discreet enough, but maybe he could wake the overseer if he shouted loud enough-
Kenzou punched Yamaguchi square in the temple.
His head jolted to the side, his breath choked off.
Yamaguchi gasped brokenly, rapidly blinking the spots out of his eyes. He could feel a nasty headache coming on, pulsing from the point of contact.
Oh no. Please don't be a concussion please don't be a-
"What the fuck did I just say!" Kenzou's hand found his hair again. "Stupid healer, repeat it back to me."
"Y-you said,'' Yamaguchi panted, the world spinning. "Not to make any noise."
"Good. At least you know that much." Kenzou slung Yamaguchi over his shoulder. Yamaguchi struggled against the bonds, but they held fast.
Kenzou turned to the rest of the group, and Yamaguchi squeezed his eyes shut against the surge of nausea. "Alright, I'm off to return something really quick back to where it belongs- I'll see you all soon."
He then sprinted into the thicket, Yamaguchi in tow.
How long had Kenzou been running?
Yamaguchi had watched the dark undergrowth whiz past, blurring- whether from the speed or his dizziness Yamaguchi wasn't sure.
His head spun, and he felt sick- maybe puking all over the back of Kenzou's legs would show him, huh?
But as soon as he thought about it, Kenzou stopped, turning around to survey the area.
"W-what- where-" Yamaguchi sputtered out, trying to will the queasiness away.
"You know," Kenzou started, shifting a struggling Yamaguchi off his shoulders and throwing him down.
The air wooshed out of his lungs, the dizziness doubled, and the ringing in his ears almost buried Kenzou's next words: "This is where some of the boys said they saw some mad men wandering last."
Yamaguchi froze, the weight of Kenzou's words sinking in.
The panic flooded him. "What will you tell the overseer, then? That I just left and died?" Frantic dread gripped his throat, choking him.
"Yeah, don't think that we didn't notice you sinking off longer than usual, and we know you probably have reasons to desert. And so our poor, defenseless healer wasn't able to defend himself from the mad men when he encountered them in the forest."
Kenzou straightened up and brushed off his hands. "Besides, who are they going to trust? Us knights, or your pathetic ass?" He smiled, and Yamaguchi could see the gleam of the full moon on his teeth.
A rustle sounded in the distance and Kenzou looked around, his smile waning into a grimace. "Well, I must be off now," Kenzou wagged his fingers at Yamaguchi mockingly. "Bye!"
"Wait-!" Yamaguchi flopped weakly after the retreating figure, but the sound of vegetation being crushed underfoot was already fading.
He cursed, straining against the ropes. Stupid- Why, why, didn't he just ignore the knights when they called him over?!
The ropes stung and dug into his skin, but that didn't matter, he needed to get out and-
A sudden wave of dizziness stopped his struggle, and he quietly groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his cheek into the cool dirt. He waited for the world to stop spinning.
Once the sky stilled, the leaves and branches overhead holding steady, Yamaguchi pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the bark of a nearby tree.
Calm down, calm down.
This wasn't the first time he was in the forest, in fact, he spent most of his days here. He dug his fingers into his palm. There was nothing to worry about. But the mad-
First things first, he needed to get out of these bonds. He couldn't heal himself with his hands tied, because that spell required hand-to-skin contact.
Yamaguchi scanned the area, quickly at first, then slowing when his head complained. He didn't want to use too much magic, between the healing and demonstration fireball, it was already mostly depleted.
Wait- did they take his knife? A quick glance down told him no, and Yamaguchi almost laughed out loud in disbelief. Sure, the blade sheath was hidden behind a pouch, but did they not see the hilt sticking out behind it? Were they so incompetent that they forgot to disarm someone that they kidnapped?
He reached for the knife at his side, wincing when the rope dug deeper into his skin and his fingertips barely brushed the knife, with not enough control or strength to unsheath it.
He strained a bit more, and somehow managed to tilt the sheath so that it provided easier access to the knife.
Yamaguchi tried again, and he slid the knife out. He breathed out a sigh of relief, holding the familiar weight in his hand. Although he mostly used this knife to collect herbs and the odd bark piece, it'd have to do.
Behind his back, he flipped the knife so it rested on the rope binding his wrists, and began sawing. It was a long and tedious process. Every time the blade passed over the rope and jolted his injury, Yamaguchi hissed in pain.
But at the end of it, the rope fell away, and Yamaguchi slowly pulled his arms apart, the blood flowing back into his arms. It almost felt like magic with the way it tingled. Oh, how he wished he had more magical reserves.
He then got to work on his bound ankles, working slow but steady, so as to not jolt his tender wrists.
When he cut away the last of it, he returned the knife to its sheath and took a deep breath.
Next order of business, healing.
He brought his fingers to his temple, on the spot where Kenzou had clocked him, and poured the magic there, focusing on the headache and dizziness.
He really hoped that the magical exhaustion wasn't going to give him another headache. That would just be too unlucky.
When the headache faded, Yamaguchi lifted his hand and contemplated his arms. They had friction burns across the wrists, but would it be worth it? Yamaguchi eventually decided against it. He might need to use more magic in the future, especially if what Kenzou told him was true-
"Honey?" A male voice called out a distance away, pitching upwards and breaking at the end. "Honey, did you see that?"
Yamaguchi stilled. The voice sounded normal- if it weren't for the almost hysterical crack and the way it brought a familiar jolt down his spine.
"It fell from the sky. The moon, the moon. It fell. Along with the stars and clouds and moon and moon and moon-" The voice was closer, and Yamaguchi's heart rate picked up. He needed to leave. Now.
Yamaguchi silently stood, quickly scanning the ground to try to pick out the quietest path away from the voice.
He crept through the trees, straining his ears to pick up the slightest sounds- the slow rustle of leaves underfoot, his shaky exhales, the softest of scrapes when his hand brushes a nearby tree.
His mind was brought back to memories of home- of brief bouts when his father was like this, too. Of when his father somehow chanced open the door to the room they kept him in, shambling around the house and calling out to long-dead comrades.
Yamaguchi had never confronted him then. Something in his gut- something so visceral and instinctual- screamed at him every time he thought about interacting with his father in that state.
His father wasn't like this before, though. He'd scoop up Yamaguchi and his sister, telling them of how the kingdom was selecting the strongest warriors to fight a dragon at a far-off mountain, and he'd been granted the honor of being among them. A grand adventure.
His hands would ruffle their hair, instead of pound against the closet door. His smiling voice would wish them farewell, and to be well for their mother, instead of muttering casualties from a battle long ended and other strange things under his breath, howling when it became especially bad.
A heavy crash. Yamaguchi snapped back into the present. A wail, like the mad man had tripped and fell hard. Thank god, it was further than before, but Yamaguchi still needed to keep moving. Just back to the encampment, then-
Yamaguchi froze in the middle of placing his foot down. Was that a trick of the light, or was there actually a figure standing there in the distance, stock-still and shrouded in darkness among the trees? Yamaguchi rubbed his eyes and squinted, using the light from the stars and moon to illuminate the forest.
The silhouette moved, and Yamaguchi realized with sinking dread that it was turning.
Yamaguchi's blood roared in his ears, almost drowning out the rustle of the approaching figure and the distant crashing through undergrowth.
What should he do? Try to make a break for it? Crouch down and hope it passes over him? Or should he try to sneak around it?
Yamaguchi ducked behind a tree, pressing his back into it and trying to get his breath under control and quiet, just in case the mad man could hear. He squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to focus on his hearing.
The sound of the first mad man barging through the forest, branches snapping and heavy, uneven steps. Yamaguchi silently cursed. It was getting closer.
The shifting of the second mad man was quieter, harder to focus on. It was getting closer, too. Maybe he could wait for them to pass him, and then-
A hand circled around Yamaguchi's wrist, and he cried out- the fear and sting of the rope burn finding an outlet.
Immediately, the crashing in the distance intensified.
Yamaguchi tugged his hand frantically, looking up into the mad man's eyes pleadingly. A shudder ran through Yamaguchi's body.
The man's eyes were empty- looking, but not seeing. It was like they stared straight through him, just happening to pass through Yamaguchi's eyes.
"Please let go of me." Yamaguchi whispered, the panic threatening to spill over. He yanked with rising desperation.
The hand held fast. The emptiness in his eyes bore into Yamaguchi's skin.
The crashing grew closer.
With one desperate tug, Yamaguchi jerked his arm free. The mad man stumbled against him, but Yamaguchi pushed him back with a kick, using the tree as his back as support. He didn't stop to see his results- he needed to leave.
Yamaguchi bolted, not caring about direction, just away from the two mad men.
Weaving around trees and bushes, Yamaguchi pumped his legs. Was the crashing behind him the mad men? Or was it just himself? Was that a stray branch or a hand that brushed him-?
"Honey-" Yamaguchi almost stumbled in shock at how much closer the voice was. "I'm going to catch him! I'm going to catch the moon!"
Lungs burning, he scanned the area for somewhere that could offer any sort of reprieve- whether it be a place to hide or to lose the mad men. But how far away were they? Could he risk a peek?
Yamaguchi dared to peek over his shoulder.
Too fast- it was all a blur. But there were dark blurs that weren't there when he passed by that area before.
Maybe another-?
Yamaguchi's feet brought him through a break in the treeline, and he only had a quick moment to look around the clearing- felled trees and splintered wood, lit by the moon- he couldn't navigate this quick enough.
Yamaguchi whirled around to stare down the mad men. He already stopped- and as much as the prospect scared him, they were gonna catch up anyway, so he might as well prepare for a fight.
But the mad men had stopped at the edge of the clearing, shifting uneasily. One of them- the one that had grabbed his wrist earlier- stepped out of the shadow of the trees and into the dim light, before hissing and retreating. Were they scared of moonlight?
As Yamaguchi watched, the mad men turned and left, their figures melting into the treeline. What...?
As soon as the mad men disappeared completely, Yamaguchi turned around to survey the area.
The clearing- was it really a clearing? It was about ten paces wide, but every single inch of it was littered with trees and bushes, smashed with varying degrees of destruction: logs to shards to splinters to sawdust.
Yamaguchi carefully picked his way through the clutter, his shadow slowly rippling over the chaos. Because of the break in the canopy, the night sky was in full view, and the area was flooded with moonlight.
It was almost surreal- the eerie sense of calm that smothered his earlier fear.
Was this area made with magic? No, the destruction was too scattered, too inconsistent of nature to be made with a uniform leveling spell.
Then did the mad men make this indentation? No, it would take them 10 years of tramping to get it this flat. Besides, as soon as those trees were felled, they wouldn't be able to step into the clearing. Then what…?
Even with the cold lighting, the unmistakable, dark splash against the wood debris caught Yamaguchi's eye. Blood. Did a fight take place here?
Yamaguchi raised his head and looked around. The flattened area, the blood, the fact that it was dragon territory… did a dragon land, fight someone, then fly off? All the clues seemed to be pointing there.
He turned his attention back to the blood trail. It wandered off out of the clearing, a jagged trail of blood spatter, like the injured person had stumbled away from the site and into the woods.
Yamaguchi hummed, thinking. If they were injured to this extent, why would they try to move? Maybe they were trying to get away from the dragon? But then they would've been struck down. Or at the very least, the blood trail wouldn't have been this clear, only disturbed by unsteady steps kicking aside wood chips instead of scattered by a large beast, erasing all traces of the blood trail.
Yamaguchi frowned. The lack of clear thinking, the shambling, the urgency with which they left to enter the forest… Clear evidence of the birth of a mad man.
Did Yamaguchi's father suffer from the same fate as this mad man did? But instead of being doomed to wander the forest as most mad men did, Yamaguchi's father was doomed to wander the haunts of his past life.
Yamaguchi missed him. He missed how his father would ruffle Yamaguchi's hair as he pored over a spell casting book, how they'd stay by Yamaguchi's sister's bedside when it got especially bad, or how his father would offer him a snack when he'd been practicing too much magic.
Maybe if he had begged his father to stay, to not join the campaign. But wouldn't the kingdom have snatched his father up anyway? Or maybe if he hadn't studied to be a healer, or gone out of his way to- no, that's the one thing he wouldn't regret.
Looking up to the open sky, Yamaguchi took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air sting fill his lungs. The moon and the stars were in full view, along with the dark mountain that seemed to look out over the area.
When Yamaguchi first arrived here, its figure seemed heavy with the promise of destruction. But now, it was more of a comforting presence, reassuring in its steadiness.
Using the stars and the mountain as a landmark, he could find the most direct path to the encampment.
With one last look around him, Yamaguchi left the clearing and headed back.
When Yamaguchi stumbled back into camp, the campfire had burned to a low flame, and only one figure sat near it.
The gravel crunched under Yamaguchi's feet, and Kenzou turned.
Yamaguchi couldn't see his face since Kenzou's back was to the fire, but the way he slowly rose and stalked towards him was unmistakable.
Cringing, Yamaguchi tried to walk faster to avoid him, but Kenzou cut off his path, standing in between him and the end of this horrible day.
Bracing himself for confrontation, Yamaguchi stopped. If Kenzou tried to pull the same stunt, he might just actually desert and visit his family.
But Kenzo looked haggard, his shoulders slumped. Maybe he had difficulty going back to the camp? Maybe he ran into mad men, too? The thought was pretty amusing, and Yamaguchi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"You know what they say about roaches. That you can poison them, try to drown them, and they'll keep living on, unless you completely squash them. I guess it's the same for you, huh? Maybe I have to smash your head in myself to finish the job."
Did Kenzou have this whole speech lined up for him? Would he have berated the mad men like this too?
"The fuck you smiling for?"
Oops.
Yamaguchi winced as he felt the digits in his hair, then again he fell and rocks bit through skin.
Kenzou spat a few words at him and stalked off.
Hmm. Maybe Kenzou really was more tired than usual, that encounter was surprisingly brief.
Yamaguchi picked himself up, dusted himself off, and headed back to his tent.
During his nightly routine of picking gravel out of the heels of his palms, Yamaguchi realized that he forgot to ask for the blond man's name.
Today was mail day! The day that a courier rode out on horseback to deliver mail. The only day that made this whole expedition worth it. Though, Yamaguchi would much rather see his family in person.
But when the courier, with an apologetic expression, handed him an official letter instead of the usual bundle of old paper tied with twine, he knew something was wrong.
Yamaguchi usually opened his letters in the privacy of the medic's tent, but today he couldn't wait. The cold sweat and gnawing fear in his stomach couldn't wait.
His blood rushed in his ears.
The seal broke with a snap. With trembling fingers, he pulled the letter out and unfolded it.
He only made out his family's names and "deceased" and "sickness" and "quarantined" before his vision blurred, making the entire letter indecipherable.
"Ohhh, what's this?"
Before Yamaguchi could react, a hand snatched up the letter. He whirled around to face Kenzou, who was reading it, his face glowing in malicious delight.
"Kenzou, please." His voice, choked with tears, sounded foreign to his own ears. "Please give that back."
Kenzou just kept reading, his eyes, with a cruel gleam, flicking back and forth on the paper.
At last, he threw down the paper, and ground it into the dirt. Heads turned as Kenzou burst into a loud bark of laughter.
"So!" Kenzou bent to stare Yamaguchi directly in the eye, and Yamaguchi flinched, his eyes sliding away to look at a tree in the distance. "Everyone infected, huh? How funny, a healer's family all die because of an illness! Too bad you couldn't do your one job and fix 'em up, huh?"
Kenzou straightened up again, and raised his voice, addressing the small crowd that had gathered to watch. Hot tears streamed down Yamaguchi's face, but he was too anguished to wipe them away.
"How can we even trust you to heal us now? What use do you even have?" Kenzou turned his head to spit into the dirt. "A waste of rations, that's all you are."
The crowd jeered. "Roast his ass, Kenzou!" "You tell 'im!"
Yamaguchi's breath stopped.
No more.
No more no more no more no more.
He can't.
He snatched up the letter and ran.
His feet pounded into the ground, and his breath was ragged in his ears.
Where was he running? Where could he run to? Home?
A strangled laugh. It sounded hysterical to his own ears.
He brushed past thorny bushes, ignoring his stinging limbs. He stumbled and crashed to the ground, rolling from the impact. But every time, he jumped up and kept running.
Maybe he should just disappear. If he was good for nothing, they wouldn't miss him, right?
Yamaguchi skidded to a stop. If he was to go, before he disappeared… there was something he needed to do.
He immediately changed course, heading for the cave at the base of the mountain.
His throat burned from exertion, but he swallowed to wet it. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, hoping that it wasn't too disheveled to tip the blond off to the fact that anything was wrong.
At the cave entrance, he took a deep breath.
Held it.
Let it out.
Yamaguchi strolled into the cave, calling out, "Hey! It's Yamaguchi again! I realized that-"
The blond was still there, though he was now propped up against a wall. Unable to trust his eyes, Yamaguchi quickly lit the cavern.
Sure enough, the man was sitting up, staring at him with the same bored look as before.
"Wha-" Yamaguchi rushed to the man's side, hands hovering over him. "How did you get up? Let me check your wound!"
The blond groaned, but abided with his directions anyway. Once he was laid down and his wound uncovered, Yamaguchi sat back on his haunches in amazement.
There was only a small stab left, absolutely nothing compared to the gaping wound that had previously marred the midsection of the man.
Yamaguchi pressed his fists into his face and laughed. He was losing it. He was surely losing it. Wounds like that didn't heal in the matter of a few days.
"I-" He unclenched his hands. A soft rustling sounded from the floor, almost as if from a piece of paper. Yamaguchi looked down.
Oh. It was the letter from earlier.
He hastily shoved it into a pocket, and worked up a smile for his patient.
"What's your name?"
"Tsu-Tsuki-" Tsuki? fell into a coughing fit, and Yamaguchi helped him up and passed over his waterskin. Tsukki drank greedily from it, wiping his mouth before handing it back to Yamaguchi. "Tsukishima."
"Nice to meet you, Tsukishima. How are you feeling? It's really strange that your wound healed that fast, but I guess magic has its benefits?"
"Fine." The way his eye turned to the scratches on Yamaguchi's arms, his messy hair, and puffy eyes asked an unspoken question, are you?
Yamaguchi looked away, unable to answer. "I'm going to try to heal up the rest of your injuries now."
His fingers shook slightly as he rested them on the injury. Yamaguchi frowned. Was he already tired?
Nevertheless, his hand numbed, and he sent that energy into healing, watching as the muscle mended, although it was clumsy and slower than before. Why?
Oh.
In the silence, the events of that day came rushing back to him. Yamaguchi sniffled, the sound echoing in the cave, and his view of the wound blurring.
Through his tears, he saw a pale hand slowly lift his hand from flesh, and Yamaguchi regained feeling in his fingers.
Yeah. He understood why. Healing affected by sadness was prone to mistakes, just as magic affected by other emotions were.
The tears fell from his eyes, hot and suffocating. The rock's light that illuminated the cave seemed to kaleidoscope and fracture.
Yamaguchi shot Tsukishima an apologetic smile through his tears. Honestly, it probably looked more like a grimace.
With the way his vision distorted the light, Tsukishima's eyes shone. But that was impossible, they were just reflecting the light of the rock.
Yamaguchi shivered.
"Do you wanna look at that paper now?"
How would he know about-?
The lights seemed to glow a bit brighter, insistently so.
Not trusting his voice, Yamaguchi nodded. He wiped at his tears, and flattened out the paper the best he could.
He took a steadying breath.
His eyes were painfully dry, having cried all that they could. But that didn't stop them from welling up again, reading the letter.
It was exactly as Kenzou said. All members of his family died of the same sickness, isolated by their villagers. Yamaguchi bit his lip. Before he left, he already told them that there was no way the illness could spread, that it wasn't that kind of sickness.
It was too cruel. Too cruel for the last time his family saw him be when he's in tears, hugging them goodbye and promising to send letters, if he survived the dragon campaign.
He blinked through the tears and the words became legible again.
Quarantined. The paper shook in his grip.
Yamaguchi could already picture the scene in his head: doors and windows boarded from the outside, an X painted on the front door with dripping red paint, walls rattling and screams sounding out from the inside when his family first realized that they were locked in.
There was another family that was quarantined before Yamaguchi was taken away. He had pried loose some of the nails holding the back window shut and climbed in, bringing them food and attempting to work his healing magic on them before the sickness claimed them all.
He still remembered the way they looked at him on the first night he clambered in. The fear, their disheveled hair and bloodied fists.
In the subsequent nights, that fear had grown into tentative hope, and it kept him coming back, sneaking in under the cover of darkness.
When Yamaguchi heard of the council's plan to burn the house down, certain that the inhabitants and their disease had already starved to death, he devised a plan to sneak them out.
The way they cried tears of joy when they stepped out onto the grass for the first time in months would never leave his mind. The mother had hesitated to hug him, worried about spreading the illness, but Yamaguchi stepped forward and quickly held her tight, feeling her shaky exhale of relief.
He waved them off as they blended in with the treeline, melting into the darkness. He hoped they were doing okay.
But he got caught. Of course he got caught.
His punishment was only a light slap on the wrist. Community service for a day. But then he got taken away by the kingdom, to serve the same cause that stole his father's sanity. And now his family was gone, too. Maybe that was the complete punishment?
Yamaguchi let out a shuddering breath, and folded up the letter to store in his pouch.
Now, thinking about his own family in that situation… the despair hardened into cold fury and determination. Yamaguchi's head cleared, free of the hot, swirling fog of stifling emotions that plagued him since he first looked at the letter.
He would stick with them for one more day, just to pack up all his worldly belongings and leave. Not this night, though, that would probably be too suspicious. Where to? He didn't know, but he was sure he would figure it out.
"Are you over it now?"
Yamaguchi sighed, but in his gut he knew the true meaning behind Tsukishima's words.
"Yeah," he let out a weak giggle, "Sorry, Tsukki!"
He looked at Tsukishima to judge his reaction to his teasing. A perfect poker face, if it weren't for the way that his lip pulled down a bit at the side to show his displeasure.
"I heard what you said before."
"What?" Yamaguchi's head whipped around to look at Tsukishima.
Tsukishima shifted a bit and readjusted his glasses, looking the slightest bit uncomfortable. "I don't think you meant for me to hear, but you said that the knights don't treat you well."
Yamaguchi sharply inhaled. He did say that, though he hadn't really expected Tsukishima to be conscious enough to hear, much less remember his confessions.
His arms wrapped around his middle. Although it wasn't as cold as before (what was with that? Had a strong draft gotten into the cave?), he still wanted the small sense of comfort it brought him.
"Oh." Yamaguchi said after a short while. He didn't really know what else to say.
"If you don't like it, then why don't you just leave?" Tsukishima pointed out bluntly.
"I-" Yamaguchi stopped. Why was he still here? "Because the kingdom, the dragon…" He protested weakly.
Burying his head in his hands, Yamaguchi squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't even need to look at Tsukishima's face to feel his disapproval. The draft returned, and Yamaguchi shivered.
"Just go up north. If it's like you said- that the kingdom's too obsessed about this dragon, what's just one person deserting?"
Sighing, Yamaguchi raised his head to look at Tsukishima gratefully, but Tsukishima glanced away quickly. Yamaguchi smiled to himself. Was Tsukki trying to be cold and aloof? His phrasing was a bit mean, but Yamaguchi got the gist of it anyway. Oddly, he felt somewhat calm about this decision. "You're right- I think I'll leave. This quest to defeat the dragon is a fool's errand anyway, and if I leave, who will the kingdom go after? My family?"
Tsukishima nodded, the lenses of his glasses flashing when they caught the light.
"Now, if you'll let me?" Yamaguchi raised his hand over the wound and looked at Tsukishima questioningly.
Tsukishima nodded, and Yamaguchi placed his hand down, healing until only a small pale scar remained.
Yamaguchi headed back to the encampment. The campaign overseer made him bow his head and apologize to the entire group of knights, and Kenzou had done the same, amidst various sniggers.
Yamaguchi's hands had clenched at his sides, but he held his tongue.
Just one more day. One more day.
On the day of his planned escape, Yamaguchi slipped away from the encampment and visited Tsukishima- one last time before he left for good.
When he stepped into the cave, Tsukishima had his back against the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him. He was holding his hand up, flexing the fingers and twisting it this way and that, watching the light from the side of the room shift across his skin.
At the sound of Yamaguchi's foot scuffing the floor, Tsukishima jumped and quickly yanked his hand down, turning his face away.
Yamaguchi laughed quietly to himself. It was natural to want to test your muscles after injury, so why was Tsukishima so shy about it? Didn't want to show weakness or something? Please, Yamaguchi had seen him unconscious and bleeding out on the forest floor- it really couldn't get any worse than that.
"Are you feeling better today?"
At Tsukishima's answering grumble, Yamaguchi let a soft laugh escape. Even though a coil of nervous energy gripped his insides, Tsukishima's petulant behaviour combined with the giddy relief of leaving lifted his mood.
Yamaguchi didn't need to check the wound today, that was already fully healed. So, he took a seat beside Tsukishima.
"So," Yamaguchi started, inspecting the scratches on his hands. "I'm going to be leaving tonight."
Tsukishima hummed in agreement.
"So… what are you gonna do?" Yamaguchi absentmindedly diverted his magic into his hands, watching the skin mend itself together until it was as good as new, like they never happened in the first place. Catharsis.
"I think I'm going to leave, too." Out of the corner of his eye, Yamaguchi saw Tsukishima turn to look at Yamaguchi's upturned palms and frown. "Are you sure you should be doing that? What if you need to use magic tonight?"
Yamaguchi shrugged, shaking his hands to get the vestiges of numbness out. "It should be fine. After all, this is only a little bit of magic and I'm planning to just sneak away. No magic, no fuss."
"Oh, I see." Zero inflection.
"Yep." Soaking in the silence, Yamaguchi twiddled his thumbs and thought over his plan. Well- his plan was more or less set in stone, but what about Tsukishima? Yeah, he knew where he was going, but did he have enough energy for it?
"Tsukishima?"
"What."
"Are you going to have enough energy for the journey?"
Tsukishima scoffed, but something was off about it, like he wasn't expecting to be suddenly put on the spot. "Of course I do, what are you talking about?"
Yamaguchi's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Okay? Then prove it." He stood up, holding out a hand for Tsukishima to take.
Tsukishima looked caught off guard, but he took Yamaguchi's hand tentatively anyway. Yamaguchi pulled him up, bracing himself when Tsukishima wobbled and pitched forward.
"Tsukishima! What-" Yamaguchi maneuvered Tsukishima's arm around his shoulders, supporting his weight.
"Shut up." Tsukishima grit out, focusing on his feet.
"How can you possibly expect to just up and leave like this?!"
"Just help me around the room- I'll get the hang of it."
Huffing, Yamaguchi obliged, guiding Tsukishima in a slow circle around the room, careful of how Tsukishima teetered, like a newborn learning how to walk.
Surprisingly though, Tsukishima was right. He stopped dragging his feet around halfway through and stopped leaning on Yamaguchi, walking on his own by the end of the exercise.
"Huh, okay." Yamaguchi stepped away from Tsukishima and looked over him, ignoring Tsukishima's self-satisfied expression. "I guess you should be fine, then."
Tsukishima sniffed, the stupid smug look still on his face. "We're both going to be fine, stop worrying."
"Yeah." Yamaguchi placed his hands on his hips, feeling the prospect of leaving looming over him all too suddenly. "Well, I guess this is goodbye. Can I hug you?"
Tsukishima looked a bit taken aback, but he nodded. Yamaguchi stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tsukishima's middle, squeezing tight. After a slight moment of hesitation, Tsukishima stiffly returned the gesture.
"Yes." Tsukishima said quietly, "Goodbye."
It felt more like a beginning than anything.
Packing up the last of his items, Yamaguchi brushed off his hands and stepped back to survey his work.
One bag to sling over his back- he could tighten it or magically lighten it if the knights decide to pursue him. It contained all he needed to survive on his own until he reached somewhere where he could live on his own.
He was going to slip away under the watchful eye of the moon, using the stars to guide him. Even if he got lost, that would be okay, he had brought a scroll of numerous spells, every square inch of the paper filled with ink.
Although it was already dark out, he needed to wait until the night guard changed shifts. Then he would make his escape.
Yamaguchi blew out his light and waited.
The clank of steel passed by his tent, and Yamaguchi shifted restlessly. There were only so many times he could practice incantations and hand movements.
Maybe now? He could roll his bedsheet up early, to get a headstart on leaving.
Yamaguchi's heart thudded in his chest, and he could barely feel his fingers, kind of like when he was on the verge of magical exhaustion.
He chuckled to himself a bit at that. He was about to pull off a magic trick. A disappearing trick.
He quickly set to work, rolling up and tying his bedroll to the rest of his gear. Quietly, he shifted it onto his back and tiptoed to the flap of the tent.
He peeled back the flap. A rustle. But that was just himself.
He closed his eyes and listened more intently. He had to be absolutely sure that he got away with notifying as few people as possible. But there was nothing, just the chirruping of nighttime bugs. It'd be a nice night to just stargaze- it was a new moon and the sky was clear- if he wasn't thinking of running aw-
A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air, setting Yamaguchi's teeth on edge.
"Help, help! Oh god, please, I-" The shout tapered off into a sobbing, before ending in what sounded like the screech of crumpling metal.
Already, the camp was a flurry of activity, knights hollering and the clang of steel ringing out.
"Dragon! Dragon spotted!"
Yamaguchi froze. Tonight? Of all nights? Was he going to die on the day he had decided to escape?
"Healer, just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" A knight stood in front of him, aggression radiating off him in waves. "Get a move on! You have a job for fuck's sake." The knight sprinted off, flipping his helmet's visor down.
Bag thudding on his back, Yamaguchi followed, dashing to where most of the chaos was.
Once in view of the small dirt clearing, he stopped in his tracks.
It was like a harvest moon had landed in the clearing.
The pale yellow dragon glowed in the night, and it would have been a beautiful sight if it weren't for the numerous bodies littering the ground around it. The crushed metal armor and pools of blood reflected the shine of the dragon, twinkling.
The smell of blood permeated the clearing, so thick in the air that he could almost taste it. Yamaguchi had seen his share of bad injuries, but this- even with magic, this was too much to heal.
As he watched, the knights charged at it, shouting war cries. But they were batted aside as if they were nothing but flies, and the nonchalance of the dragon seemed to say one thing:
Pathetic.
Another wave of knights surged forward to attack, and the dragon took a deep breath, its chest swelling-
A beam of what seemed to be pure moonlight sprayed out from the dragon's gaping mouth, and it swept over the entire clearing and its surroundings, including fighters and Yamaguchi.
He flinched- the beam felt like he was being doused in ice cold water, and a panicked feeling seized his throat and made it hard to breathe, but he quickly fought it down. He needed to keep a level head.
For a minute, nothing happened. The fighters stopped, checking themselves for injuries, then continued their charge.
The dragon waited, exuding a haughty air.
Yamaguchi's stomach dropped as the knights began to collapse, dropping their weapons and twitching. Some of them jumped up and screamed incoherently, charging at each other and into the thicket. Others merely sobbed into their hands, rocking and mumbling to themselves.
Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Was this-? Yamaguchi looked at the knights again, watched as one of them stumbled to their feet, crying out in a manner that was all too familiar. There was no mistaking it. This was the birth of mad men.
He looked back at the dragon, who was looking at him... expectantly?
The dragon cocked his head at him. Maybe it was Yamaguchi projecting, but it seemed to ask: what are you waiting for? Why aren't you running?
Yamaguchi hesitated. This was his one way ticket out of here- a dragon would be the best distraction one could ask for, but why was there something so inexplicably familiar about it?
It all clicked. The supernatural healing, the blood from the clearing- no, the crash site, the golden yellow of the scales, the same way the eyes seemed to pierce straight to your soul.
"Tsukishima." He breathed out.
Come on. Tsukishima's voice rang in his head, somewhat like if it was underwater- with no clear source, but without the distortion. The dragon- no, Tsukishima, dipped a shoulder down, a clear invitation, and Yamaguchi took one last look around.
Half the tents were on fire, thick plumes of red-black smoke billowing into the night sky. There were no knights in sight, save for the ones on the ground. One was crawling pretty determinedly away from Tsukishima and in his direction, and was he-? No, surely not- nope, he definitely was-
"Healer!" Yamaguchi flinched at the venom in Kenzou's voice, but rooted to the ground with fear. "Healerrr!" The crazed drawl in his voice brought a shiver down Yamaguchi's spine, but now, looking at his bloodied face? Yamaguchi could only remember the last time they spoke- dishonest apologies through gritted teeth and clenched jaws.
Kenzou leapt forward, sword tip flashing out, but Yamaguchi was ready.
His palms prickled with energy, and he thrust them out, shoving Kenzou into Tsukishima's waiting jaws.
With a snap, Tsukishima's jaws closed solidly around Kenzou and crumpled the armor, and he dropped the corpse, shooting it a baleful look.
Tsukishima dipped his shoulder again, sending Yamaguchi a pointed look, as if to say, "Hurry it up this time."
Yamaguchi nodded, and clambered onto Tsukishima's back, careful of the spine ridges but squeezing tight.
And with a mighty beat of his wings, they were off.