The prompt was getting lost somewhere. Written from Toshi's POV
.*Lost and Found*.
The world. When I'm alone with him, it doesn't matter. And actually, I'd venture so far to say that nothing means more than his pinky wrapped around mine now.
Above the dirt path, high noon sparkles through the lazy sway of maple branches, dots his complexion with droplets of sunlight that shift along with the leaves. His lips purse and he looks about with a squint, then hums.
"We're lost," I say, rather than ask, careful to keep my voice flat.
...Don't get me wrong. It's not that there isn't anything more to life than him. As individuals, we're something. But together? That's something entirely different.
He takes a breath, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. "Well, I..." If his first intention was to deny it, his mind had been changed quickly. "Yes." Golden eyes soften with a lift of his brows and he finally looks to me, blush dusting light blotches of color about his cheeks. "For now." It's an insistant addition, complete with a strong nod. "Don't worry, though. We'll get back on track as soon as we find the main road again. Which I think is..." His words dissipate into a mumble as his palm presses to his neck and he glances about.
"Mmhmm."
At that, he turns to me again. "Ah, you're..." His hand falls to his side, and I feel his finger tightening around mine. "You're mad, aren't you?"
"Mad," I repeat, plainly. "You insisted on wandering off the Nakasendo Path for a shortcut, and now we're lost." Casting a glance to the side, my lower eyelids raise just a speculative touch. "Why would I be mad?"
"I," he starts, breathy and sincere, and then moves to put himself in my line of sight. "I'm really sorry."
At last, I can't play the role any longer and give it up, the corners of my lips twitching with fondness that I don't even bother to conceal. I just look at him, this person so beautiful inside and out, and wonder not for the first time why fate chose me to be the one allowed to hold his hand. Society rejects us, insists we don't belong. We dress like samurai, we walk like samurai. We even love like samurai. But in the eyes of the world, we never could be considered as such because we'd be born of dirt-of farmers.
But out here? In the middle of nowhere?
All that matters is his pinky wrapped around mine.
"You're sorry?" I ask, stepping up to him so close that our breaths mingle. "I'm not."
And lost on some random mountain path in Edo, I kiss him and don't even want to be found again.