The following days saw Yata and Saruhiko settling down into a sort of routine. Yata would wake early and go to Saruhiko's room to wake him and prepare his clothes during his extra five minutes of sleep. He'd then prepare something for Saruhiko to eat while he took his morning shower and practically force it down Saruhiko's throat if he refused it. Then, it was either saddling Ryuu for Saruhiko to ride out or assisting Saruhiko with whatever he needed. Around lunch, Yata would prepare a light meal and make sure Saruhiko ate something. In his opinion, his master never ate enough.
Sometimes, Saruhiko had Yata run errands for him during the short afternoons. Most of these involved delivering messages within the Lords' sector. The Lords were generally accepting of him and some did praise him for being a good slave to Saruhiko. Yata would just bow and run back home with a letter or message in reply. At night, Yata would light the fire and pull Saruhiko away from paperwork that he had fallen asleep on to have supper. They would then talk before Saruhiko would practically drag Yata to the bath. Then, Saruhiko would rub salve on Yata's healing back before tucking him in.
Yata became more and more boisterous as he got used to his new life. He liked to think that he brought life to the house and brought warmth into Saruhiko's life. Saruhiko was still as cold as ever. Yata had yet to see a spark of warmth enter those azure eyes. Yata's own amber eyes always reflected what he was feeling.
Sometimes though, when Yata watched Saruhiko spar with one of his subordinates, Yata would see a manic glimmer in those eyes as Saruhiko immersed himself in the fight. Saruhiko would begin to grin and that glimmer would appear as he lost himself in battle. Yata sincerely worried for him. If that was the only emotion Saruhiko was capable of showing clearly, Yata wanted to do something to change that.
Winter gave way to spring, the snows melted and the days gradually grew longer. Saruhiko grumbled about his subordinates sneezing their way through work as he himself kept a handkerchief to his nose. Yata smiled at his master's antics as he went about his routine. He'd managed to clean up most of the house and fold all of Saruhiko's clothes by now. He knew that the townspeople said that he was the happiest slave they'd known someone to own as he cheerfully went about his tasks.
Since Saruhiko discovered that he could read and write, he took to using Yata as a scribe whenever he went to the Court. Yata got to see the finery of the Houses and compared them to the simple way he and Saruhiko lived. One would assume that a childhood friend of the King would live in luxury even if he was a commoner. Saruhiko clearly hated the lavish displays of wealth, sometimes looking at the Lords with thinly veiled disgust. The only person from the Houses that he was truly friendly with was Lady Seri. The two would pass quips and remarks about how her father was desperately trying to get her to marry Reisi. Sometimes Reisi would join in as well, making them a rather mismatched but dynamic trio. They all knew about Saruhiko's decision to grant Yata his speech, so when they were in private chambers, they would speak to Yata too.
There was one time when Reisi asked Yata what he was scared of. With a proud light in his eyes, Yata replied that he was not afraid of anything. Seri passed a comment about Saruhiko and Yata being 'like master, like slave'. Yata paused to consider this. The reason for Saruhiko's fearlessness was probably his almost complete lack of emotions in the first place. He shrugged it off as Seri changed the topic.
Summer came and with it came summer storms. Thunder clapped overhead and Saruhiko rolled over in bed. He hated thunderstorms. They woke him up and kept him awake. At least Ryuu would be safe and warm. Saruhiko was thankful for the foresight that had him converting one of the old rooms into a one-horse stable. He sat up in bed as his room door creaked open.
"Fu-Fushimi?" Yata stuck his head around the door, sounding like he was supressing tremors.
Saruhiko opened his mouth to answer as a flash of lightning bleached the colour from the room, reflecting the fear in Yata's wide eyes. Almost as fast as the flash of lightning, Yata had leaped towards the bed and buried his head in the covers in time for the next peal. Saruhiko just stared, stunned for a second.
"Yata, are you scared of storms?"
A small whimper was his only reply as the fearless kitsune crumbled, ears flattened against his head and tail between his legs.
Saruhiko sighed. He patted the bed beside him and called, "Come on up here. You'll feel better under the blankets."
Yata wasted no time in getting under the covers, just in time for the next crash. Saruhiko looked at the quivering lump in his blankets. This must definitely be Yata's worst fear. He'd never seen the kitsune scared before. His eyes softened as he reached out to pat the part of the lump that was Yata's head. He reached under the covers to stroke his ears.
"Hey, it'll be okay." Saruhiko tried to comfort Yata. He must have succeeded to some extent as Yata drew back the covers to reveal his face. His eyes were still wide with fear as rain continued to batter against the windows. Saruhiko continued to stroke his head as he managed to coax Yata into a sitting position beside him. He considered his progress in abating Yata's fears good until there was another flash and Yata collapsed against his chest, gripping onto his tunic tightly. Saruhiko could hear the barely audible whimpers.
He gathered all of Yata into his arms and held him through the next few peals, whispering words of comfort into Yata's ears while stroking his hair. Yata's trembling went gradually from seismic to barely there. He relaxed his grip on Saruhiko's tunic slightly as Saruhiko held him close.
"It's okay, Yata. I'm here," Saruhiko whispered.
"Misaki," Yata whispered.
Saruhiko pulled away slightly so that he could meet Yata's eyes. "What?"
"My name. It's Misaki." Misaki looked down; ears still folded back against his head, but this time in mild embarrassment, not fear.
"Hmm… Misaki." Saruhiko tested the name. "It suits you, Misaki."
Misaki was thankful for the dark as his cheeks flushed. He leaned his head against Saruhiko's chest as the storm continued to rage outside. Saruhiko held him close once more and he buried his face in Misaki's hair.
"Fushimi…" Misaki whispered.
"Saruhiko. Call me by my given name."
"Saruhiko," Misaki murmured.
They soon sought warmth under the thick blankets, Saruhiko still holding Misaki close. They fell asleep like that, Misaki curled up against Saruhiko's chest and Saruhiko's arms wrapped around Misaki.
The next morning, Saruhiko awoke first, blinking as he began to make sense of the jumbled hazy mess he could see without his glasses. He had trouble placing the russet mass on his chest at first; then he remembered holding Misaki in his arms. He felt a strange warmth and dismissed it as merely Misaki's body heat. He smiled as he carded his fingers through Misaki's hair and began to stroke his head.
Misaki's response was to burrow further into Saruhiko's tunic. A second later, his eyes fluttered open as he shook off sleep. As soon as he realised where he was, he suddenly sat up, jerking himself out of Saruhiko's arms, cheeks turning a dusky pink.
Saruhiko chuckled and pulled Misaki back down. Wrapping one arm around him, Saruhiko ruffled Misaki's hair and scratched behind his ears. Misaki let out a contented sigh and allowed his body to go limp. A light drizzle was still falling, making soft sounds against the window panes.
"Let's just spend the morning in bed for once," suggested Saruhiko, already enjoying the thought of not having to get out of bed.
Misaki just hummed in response, brushing his tail against Saruhiko's legs. Sleep was already winding him in its tendrils and tugging him lightly back to the land of dreams.
