Prompt: pride

A return to the Sengoku era AU! Continued from In Place from Past the Horizon's Edge.

Kougami knew she was waiting.

He placed the inkbrush in its ceramic dish, sensing her gaze on his back. She was far too courteous to inquire, but he could see it in her face every time. The letters, the whispered conversations, the sharpening of his katana. Anyone would be suspicious of a husband's strange behavior, and over the past month, she'd borne the rumors with unwavering patience.

He lit his pipe, the kizami searing the inside of his mouth. "It's late."

"Yes, and so, you should come to bed too." She lightly replied.

"Go ahead first. I'll be there soon."

He expected her to withdraw, as she had the other nights. Empty victories, all of them. But he was wrong, a heavy blanket settling upon his shoulders, and when he looked up, it was into Akane's eyes. His wife of half a year. Brave, dutiful, kind, and more than he deserved. Her soft hands remained, and he reached to cover them with his own.

"Can we continue our shogi game for a little while? Three turns each?"

She was a deft negotiator, and he couldn't deny her. "Ah. Acceptable terms."

The board was in a corner of their room, the pieces standing upright. The game had left off on his move, and he pressed the offensive. He was aware he was toeing the line of recklessness, but he did not want to risk leaving this game unfinished. He did not know when he could be called away, to the battlefield or to this new matter.

The plays went rapidly, and he made his final maneuver, setting up for check. "Perhaps, this might be the end."

She didn't rise to the bait, calmly staring through her lashes. "Not quite." And swiftly, her slim fingers took his promoted rook. A single opening in his defense, and she'd seized it. The piece landed on her end of the box with a clatter.

"So, our game will resume tomorrow night." He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. An impasse, but he wasn't upset. In fact, he was rather pleased with her tactics. If she were a general, he'd happily serve her.

"Will you tell me then, what's troubling you?"

Tense silence filled the air. He could not lie, never to her, and said. "It isn't. The work is my responsibility, part of a vow I have to uphold."

"Is there any way I can aid you?"

It was best to show her, to prove what was going on. He drew out the papers, explaining the hidden messages. "There are always troublemakers, the foxes of our territory, but this one is particularly vexing. One man, accused of infiltration into the households of other daimyo. He deals in corruption and incitement of rebellion." He clenched his teeth, admitting. "I believe this is the man who killed Sasayama."

She drew a sharp breath.

"His name is Makishima Shougo, and I'm planning to kill him with my own hands, even if I die trying. That's what I swore to myself."

And as proud as he was of his mission, he couldn't help the twinge of guilt at how his wife's face fell.

Soon after, he had to depart. He couldn't ignore the calling to defend the farthest border, an urgent order from the lord. He broke the news to Akane. "I apologize."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." She gently said, and then, her voice was firm as stone. "You are a samurai, and I am a samurai's wife. I'll try to uncover what I can, from the other provinces. Yuki died because of this man too. Let me help; I will not allow you to die alone. We'll work in discreet, so we can live on together."

He had to correct himself. She truly was a general, in spirit if not in name. He exhaled, embracing her tightly. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the skin above her kimono's collar, ignoring how she pushed at the top of his head. He resisted rolling his eyes. "What?"

"I-it's daytime." She flushed, beautifully scarlet.

"And no one will disturb us." He swept her into his arms and carried her to their bed. On this fiery morning, he'd paint a new oath, and gladly keep it forever.