Beta: EternalAngel
A/N: Comments and critique appreciated.
Atobe looked up from the book he was reading when he heard a knock against the window. He saw a white face in the darkness, and recognized Shishido. He lifted his hand and gestured for the man to come inside and bask in front of the fire as he did. In response to his invitation Shishido gave a brief grin and soon his face disappeared from view.
Atobe did not need to wait for long for the door to open and Shishido to step inside the room. "A storm's coming in," Shishido greeted him with a nod. "There's no way we can keep searching tonight." There was a familiarity in the manner he walked across the room and spoke with Atobe, as there should be, considering the same had happened for nearly a week now, ever since the day they had learned of Ohtori's disappearance.
"So you still haven't found any trace of him?" Atobe closed the book he had been reading, set it on the table next to his chair and stood up. "It might be that he just… left."
"Choutarou wouldn't do that, not without telling me!" Shishido protested loudly, like he had before when Atobe and others had suggested the same.
"It's not like him, I agree, but you have been searching for nearly a week now, and nothing," Atobe kept his voice calm, hoping it would in turn calm Shishido. "And there is a young girl missing from the village, one that, if rumours are true, Ohtori was quite fond of."
"Yeah he liked her, but her dad was against the whole thing," Shishido said.
Atobe sighed. "That only supports the assumption that he ran away with the girl. They could very well be married by now, and you shall soon receive a letter from him, apologetic, but elated of his marital bliss."
"God I hope you're right, Atobe, I really do," Shishido flopped unceremoniously on one of the chairs before the fire and buried his head in his hands. Shishido's hat fell from his head on to the floor, from where Atobe picked it up and placed on the mantle of the fireplace. "But he'd never do anything like that."
Atobe remained silent, his eyes on Shishido's defeated frame. It wasn't necessary for Shishido to be part of the search and there were others much more capable of finding a missing person, but no one had the heart to deny Shishido when he insisted on being part of the search. When one of the grooms had disappeared while taking part of the search, it had only doubled Shishido's efforts. He felt responsible for the missing man, blamed himself that the man had gotten lost.
"You don't really believe it, do you?" Shishido's question came out muffled because his face was still buried in his hands.
"What?" Atobe asked.
"You think he's dead, don't you?" Shishido pulled the hands from before his face and stared Atobe, eyes burning.
Atobe turned his head away to stare out of the window and at the trees that the strengthening wind swayed, hoping that perhaps he wouldn't need to answer.
"Atobe!" Shishido had always had a short temper, and it had become even shorter these days. If Atobe did not answer soon, he might be forced to face Shishido's fists.
"Yes," Atobe answered. "I think he's dead." He turned so he could see Shishido's face when he spoke the words. Perhaps he expected to see Shishido crumble before him, hear him scream in desperation and break into tears. But all Shishido did, was sigh.
"Me too," Shishido said, and his shoulders slumped.
"Then why are you still searching?" Atobe asked.
"Because…" Shishido fisted his hands on his knees and his face twisted into a grimace. "I need to find his body. So that his family can bury him, so I can say goodbye. Don't you see?"
Atobe nodded slowly, even if he did not really understand. What difference did it really make if he saw the body or not, as long as he knew Ohtori was dead? But maybe that was it, and Shishido couldn't make himself believe Ohtori was dead until he saw the body, even if he knew the truth.
The door opened behind them and Kabaji entered, carrying with him a large, white envelope. He bowed before Atobe, and offered him the letter. Atobe took it, and dismissed Kabaji with a wave of his hand.
Curious, Atobe stared at the envelope, wondering who the letter was from, but there was nothing more than his name written on it. He wanted to open it right away, but hesitated, throwing a sideway glance at Shishido who stared at the letter curiously.
"This might be from the family," Atobe said. "It could be urgent, so I hope you don't mind if I open it right away."
"No it's fine. I need to check the stables anyway, before the storm really hits us," Shishido said and stood up.
"You don't need to leave," Atobe said. "I just meant that-" he stopped mid-sentence, not that sure what exactly he had meant, and then feeling stupid for protesting when Shishido wanted to give him some privacy to read the letter.
"I'll see you in the morning," Shishido said as his goodbye, and left Atobe alone with the letter.
Atobe stood in the middle of the room, tempted to walk over to the door, and call Shishido back, to make him stay and talk some more, like they had before. Things had been slowly moving towards the amicable companionship Atobe had hoped to have with Shishido, and he didn't like the thought of spending another evening alone, seeing only the gloomy faces of his servants.
Ohtori's loss had been heavy, not just on Shishido, but to most of the staff. Atobe hadn't realized how liked Ohtori was, before he saw the grief on Hiyoshi's face. His brother had never been fond of anyone, and the fact that Ohtori could penetrate even his cold exterior with his kindness made him wonder why he could never see in Ohtori what everyone else did. Perhaps things would have turned out differently had he only been willing to open his heart to Ohtori.
Sighing heavily Atobe turned his attention back to the letter. He tore it open, not bothering with a penknife, too curious to know who it was from. The handwriting on the letter was the same that had been used to write his name on the envelope, and he didn't recognize it. His eyes sought out the signature at the end of the letter. Written in a curvy, elegant handwriting was a name that shocked him so, that the letter slipped from his fingers to the floor, nearly falling in to the flames of the fire.
He stared at the letter like it was something living and dangerous, walked nearer it, still keeping his distance. Taking a shuttering breath, he went down on one knee to read it, not wanting the parchment to have anymore contact with his skin. He licked his lips, and began to read.
I miss your presence, in this old and dreary house, in which I have none but my loyal Sanada to converse with, and as you might have observed yourself, he is not a man of many words, preferring action over discussion as his way of communicating with the world that surrounds him. And as much as I adore my loyal Sanada, you left me wanting for more of you.
It was unfortunate I was not here for your latest visit, and you were forced to spend time with my guest. I understand he was not as entertaining as you wished, for you did not return to seek more of his company. I will be more than glad to compensate for anything he lacked when we meet again.
My desire to see you again is so great, that if you will not come to me, I shall come to you.
To anyone else, the letter was not riddled with threats. But to Atobe, a direct threat to his life could not have been more menacing.
The demon knew everything. It knew he had seen Ohtori, and had chosen to leave him there. That shouldn't have surprised Atobe. He had made no attempts to fix the hatch he had broken, and he doubted Ohtori had remained silent after realizing Atobe had no intention of returning. But he had hoped that would have been enough for Yukimura; that he had left Ohtori to their hands, had not told anyone what he knew when the girl had disappeared the very next day, or even when one of the grooms went missing.
He should have known better than to try and make a deal with the devil and expect to lose nothing, especially when he did not know what the devil would demand of him.
"Atobe?" Shishido asked from the door, and Atobe threw the letter amongst the burning embers in the fireplace. He stared at them, wondering how long had he been crouched above the letter, for the firewood to turn to embers, from the logs of wood he remembered seeing amongst the fire when Shishido had left.
"What is it?" Atobe asked, standing up.
"I left my hat," Shishido pointed on the mantle where Atobe had placed the hat when Shishido had dropped it on the floor. "Was that letter anything I should be worried about?"
"And why should my matters concern you, Shishido, ahn?" Atobe asked, lifting an eyebrow and putting all his arrogance behind the question. He could not let Shishido find out about the letter's content.
Shishido scowled and strode across the room to retrieve his hat. He took it in his right hand, placed it above his heart and gave Atobe a sweeping bow, and spoke in a voice filled with bitterness, "I apologize for having the audacity to presume I had any right to question My Lord's affairs." Shishido rouse from his bow, never raising his eyes to meet Atobe's.
Shishido's hand was already on the door knob when Atobe finally apologized. "I'm sorry Shishido, the letter… it shook me."
He heard Shishido sigh, and saw the tension leave his back and shoulders. "It's fine Atobe, I understand." He looked back and grinned wearily, with only a fraction of the eagerness his grin had displayed earlier that evening. "Just try to remember you're not alone."
"I will." Atobe nodded and Shishido was already closing the door behind him when Atobe yelled, "Shishido!"
"What now? I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep." Shishido asked, looking as tired as he claimed to be.
"Nothing," Atobe said, and waved a hand. "Nothing that can't wait till tomorrow," he lied, knowing he would not be here tomorrow. If he hurried, he could be on a ship headed towards the continent by morning. Or perhaps he would try his luck in America.
"Somehow I don't believe you," Shishido said, frowning. "But I'm too tired to argue with you right now. Good night." Shishido closed the door, and Atobe counted to ten, before calling for Kabaji.
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"You sent for me?" Hiyoshi asked, stepping inside Atobe's study, and frowning, when he saw no one.
"Yes, I'm leaving for London," Atobe's voice spoke from behind the desk, and after closing the door behind him, Hiyoshi walked to where the voice came from. He lifted his eyebrows when he saw what Atobe was doing. Two boards had been lifted from the floor, and under them was an opening that contained a small fortune in gold and jewels, and Atobe was filling his bag with coins he took from amongst the riches.
"London?" Hiyoshi repeated. "You would not need this much currency in coin if you were going to London. Nor would you leave Kabaji behind."
Atobe paused in his task, and lifted his eyes to stare up at Hiyoshi.
"As far as you know, if anyone asks, I am in London. Do you understand?" Atobe said, lowering his voice threateningly. To his surprise, Hiyoshi laughed delightedly
"You're running away from something." Hiyoshi smirked. "And whatever it is, it's scared you shitless."
Atobe rose so he could stare down at Hiyoshi. The hatch lay open between them, inside it more gold than Hiyoshi must have seen in his entire life. The hidden stash was not the only one of its kind in the house, and Atobe was sure even the existence of this one was a surprise to Hiyoshi, but not even once did the grey eyes dart down to catch a glimpse of the fortune it held. Hiyoshi's eyes remained fixed on Atobe's and in them shone years of contempt and hatred, along with suspicion and glee for Atobe's fear.
"You're not planning on returning anytime soon either," Hiyoshi continued. "Not when you're taking that much gold with you. What could have possible scared you so?"
"I do not have the time to play these games with you," Atobe growled and turned back to the desk to pick up his hat. "You've seen the hiding place now. I've left enough money in there for you to live in luxury for the rest of your life. Consider it a delayed inheritance, if you wish."
"No," Hiyoshi said, and took hold of Atobe's arm. "I want to know what caused this."
Hiyoshi's hold on his arm tightened; became painful, but Atobe refused to let Hiyoshi see the pain be reflected on his face. In his whole life Atobe had not surrendered to anyone, and he would not begin with his brother, when it was clear there was no love between them, when they could hardly stand to be in each other's presence.
"It must have been something that happened today," Hiyoshi speculated aloud, keeping his eyes on Atobe's face. "You were quite content earlier today. Happy, you might say."
Atobe's eye twitched, and Hiyoshi's eyes narrowed. "Too happy for someone who's just lost a gardener and a groom."
"Unhand me," Atobe ordered. "I don't have time!" He couldn't prevent the panic he felt to come out in the loudness of his voice.
"You never liked Ohtori," Hiyoshi's voice became almost breathless, and his face paled as the possibility of what Atobe might have done came to him. "You always blamed him for stealing Shishido from you; you were never brave enough to accept that it was you that threw him aside when he no longer fitted your life. I wouldn't put it past you to have done something to Ohtori."
Atobe could feel the blood drain from his face, and the cold sweat on his skin when Hiyoshi came so close to the truth. He knew it was too late to try and cover it when Hiyoshi released his arm and staggered back, horrified.
"He never did a thing to you," Hiyoshi's voice was quiet and filled with venom, like a hiss of a poisonous snake. "But you never liked him, and then he disappeared. Last seen at the cottage, from where you received a letter tonight." Hiyoshi's hand flew to his mouth, and he bent double, and gagged. It took him a few seconds to recover, but when he did, it was no longer horror and disbelief that shone in his eyes, but hatred, burning more brightly and violently than ever before.
"What did it say?" Hiyoshi's upper lip curled up and he snarled. "They want payment for what they did? Threatened to reveal what you had done? Blackmail would explain all that gold."
"You have no proof of anything," Atobe said, knowing instantly he shouldn't have confirmed Hiyoshi's suspicions with words like that.
"Proof!" Hiyoshi spat the word at Atobe, his eyes glowing feverishly. "I don't need it to ruin you! They'll all know what you did by morning. You can run, but you'll never be able to return." The smile on Hiyoshi's face was hauntingly familiar. Atobe recognized it as one he had seen on his own lips. So arrogant and cruel. If there had ever been any doubts in Atobe's mind that they shared a father, that smile wiped them all away.
"And I can't forget about the other disappearances," Hiyoshi laughed madly, and his laughter chimed in Atobe's ears like silver bells caught in the wind; sharp, and so filled with pure joy that it sounded almost innocent, and it would have been, for it not for the malice distorting it. "I'll destroy you!"
"You will gain nothing from it!" Atobe yelled, trying to reach that one part in Hiyoshi he knew longed for station and wealth. "Your silence will be worth much to me. I'll give you anything you want, the house, all the gold!" He was grasping at straws, would have promised anything, even his soul now, if Hiyoshi would only be quiet!
"All I need is to see you in ruins," the words came out of Hiyoshi in a voice that did not sound anything like his own. It was too low and dangerous, filled with nothing but fury so deep that it did not sound even human.
"This is not like you, Hiyoshi, be rational," Atobe attempted to calm him.
"How would you know what is like me, and what is not?" Hiyoshi said. "I sometimes wondered if you ever even noticed me. Everyone noticed you, and that trash, Shishido. I didn't exist to you or to anyone. Not until you saw a way to profit off me. You must have thought it a fun joke. Make your brother the steward and he'll always be reminded that he's below you; that were it not for a quirk of fate, our roles would have been reversed, and I would be Earl!" Hiyoshi screamed, pointing a finger at himself.
"Do not think too highly of yourself!" Atobe screamed back. "You could have never, never been what I am! Compared to me you are like a mouse to a leopard!"
"And even that was not enough for you!" Hiyoshi continued shouting like he had not heard Atobe. "You had to take away the one person to ever be kind to me, who I could speak with, who acknowledged me! And only because you were jealous of Shishido! Jealous of a stable boy's attention!"
"Be quiet!" Atobe yelled, grasping at the end of the table, his hand reaching out for something to hold on to.
"And I'll take that from you too! He'll hate you for what you've done, he'll never forgive you for Ohtori!"
Atobe's fingers closed around something heavy and solid, his vision turned hazy, his head was spinning, and he could hear nothing but loud screaming in his ears. He just wanted Hiyoshi to shut up, to not speak those foul words.
"He'll despise you, they all will!"
Atobe swung his right arm, still grasping onto what it was in his hand. Hiyoshi's head snapped back and something warm landed on Atobe's face. Hiyoshi fell, and it was finally silent. The screaming in Atobe's ears disappeared, and the world returned.
Atobe fell to his knees, his gaze shifting to his right hand that was holding a bronze statue of a horse. It had been a gift to his father from his mother. A birthday gift Atobe's father had never really liked, but kept in his study just the same, because he found no other place for it, and it brought a smile to Atobe's mother's lips every time she saw it on the desk. Atobe had kept it on the desk. It had been a rare reminder of the odd fondness his parents shared. Something that made him smile wistfully, wondering if things were not different than what he had thought, that perhaps his parents had been happy after all, if he could find happiness with a woman one day.
It was stained with his brother's blood now, the statue that had stood for the bond between his parents.
"Hiyoshi," Atobe called the name softly, crawled forward, both his knees on either side of Hiyoshi, his left hand above Hiyoshi's right shoulder, next to the head, palm flat against the floor, his right hand, still holding the statue, next to the gaping wound on Hiyoshi's head. The blood had dyed Hiyoshi's sand coloured hair red, and more blood flowed from the wound, the pool of it spreading, reaching the carpet, and soaking it.
Hiyoshi's eyes fluttered open, and when he saw Atobe's face hover above him, he growled, and tried to get up, but only managed to fidget his feet, and to move his head a fraction to the side.
"You'll tell, won't you?" Atobe asked, his voice shaking as he struggled to breathe. He lifted the statue over his head, arms trembling. Hiyoshi's eyes widened and he tried to open his mouth, but Atobe never gave him a chance to speak. "I can't let you do that," he whispered, and brought the statue down, and it smashed on Hiyoshi's jaw, splintering the bones, but it didn't hit the wide eyes, or silence the whimpering. Atobe hit again, and again, and again, wanting those eyes to close, for Hiyoshi to be silent.
He finally let go of the statue, and it fell on Hiyoshi's chest. The face had turned into a bloody mess of mangled flesh and straps of skin. White bone shone brightly in the midst of all that red, and a piece of a bone that had once been a part of the jaw hang to the side, teeth still attached. There were no eyes to glare at him anymore, no mouth to sneer at him, nothing that resembled a person's face in that bloody mess of flesh.
He gagged and doubled over, nearly falling on top of the body. To steady himself Atobe placed his palm on the floor, but the wood had turned slippery from the blood, and he fell, his head now buried in Hiyoshi's shoulder, his fingers tangling in the sticky hair.
Shaking, Atobe pushed the body away from him, and tried to stand up. He managed to get up to his knees, only to fall back down amongst the blood that stuck to his clothes, seeped through the fabric onto his skin.
He crawled away towards the desk, and finally reached the chair before it, in which Hiyoshi had sat so many times, pointing out figures, glaring at him and suppressing his laughter when Atobe said or did something he found amusing.
He sat on that chair now, and his eyes fell on the body spread out on the floor, unmoving. From the neck down, he looked the same as ever. The hair remained untouched, only slightly coloured red. But the face… He could not look at it without the bile rising up to his mouth.
The door opened, and Atobe ripped his eyes from the mess, and locked eyes with Kabaji. Kabaji was not looking at him, he was staring at the body. There wasn't a change on his face or eyes, nothing in the way he stood that told Atobe what Kabaji was thinking.
"Ah, Kabaji," Atobe said. "I have killed my brother." Atobe giggled, and smacked his hand over his mouth the moment he heard the sound. He felt cold, and squirmed in his seat like the skin he was wearing was something disgusting that needed to be shed.
"He wouldn't shut up, Kabaji, wouldn't be quiet when I told him to," Atobe continued when the shivers quieted down. "He would have told everyone what I had done, would have told them about Ohtori." He couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, he needed to speak them. "They're demons, do you understand, demons, and I left Ohtori to them, like a sacrifice, thinking they would accept him for exchange for me. I should have known they would not settle for anything less but me. They took him, and they took more, and now they want me." He felt like laughing again, but gritted his teeth together and dug his nails to his knees, hoping the pain would erase his mad desire to laugh.
Atobe looked back at Kabaji, only to see him gone. He blinked, and knew he should stand and leave before Kabaji returned. But his eyes wandered back to the body and to the blood on his hands, and he stayed and waited.
Kabaji finally returned, but he was alone. Atobe watched Kabaji as the man walked towards the desk, and kneeled, his form hidden from view by the large furniture. He listened, and soon heard the sound of boards that normally hid the hole, being placed back over it. When Kabaji rose from behind the desk, the bags Atobe had filled with gold were thrown over the large man's shoulder.
Not looking at Atobe Kabaji walked to Hiyoshi's body, stood over it, glanced at the blood soaked rug in the middle of the room, and then returned to stare at the body. He kneeled, picked up the body, rouse with a grunt, walked to stand over the rug, and dropped the body in the middle of it.
Atobe flinched when the body landed on the rug, and wanted to shout at Kabaji to be gentler with his brother, and at that thought he wanted to weep, but instead he chuckled again. It sounded better this time, more dry, and not mad.
Kabaji had managed to roll the body into the rug, and now picked it up in his arms, and carried the bundle from the room, leaving Atobe alone, to stare at the blood stains on the floor that travelled from the large pool to the chair he sat in.
Kabaji returned, with a bucket of water and a rag. He kneeled before the blood stains, and started scrubbing the floor. They both remained silent. Atobe no longer had anything to say, and Kabaji hardly ever spoke.
Atobe had found Kabaji working in the kitchen in their London house. For some reason Kabaji had decided to follow Atobe around when the boy ventured into town, and since Kabaji always did what he was told, and never argued or questioned his orders, Atobe decided he would make a good valet. After some time he became so used to Kabaji he did not know how he would ever manage to function should he have to live without him. Kabaji was like an extension of him, another pair of arms and legs.
When he was done scrubbing, and there wasn't any blood on the floor anymore, Kabaji picked up the bronze statue of a horse, and after inspecting it carefully, began cleaning it. Once done, he placed the statue back on the desk, and turned to face Atobe, his face as unreadable as ever.
Atobe smiled grimly and spread his arms wide. "Come, Kabaji," he called for the man.
"Usu," Kabaji nodded, and he only needed to take two steps to stand before Atobe, and to kneel before him, head bowed.
Sighing heavily Atobe lifted a hand and let his fingers brush through Kabaji's dark hair. He felt a sudden wave of affection for Kabaji flood him, and fisted the hand buried in Kabaji's thick hair. "I wish I had someone to blame for this," Atobe spoke, and let his fingers slide through the thick hair once more. It would have been fine with him, if he could have stayed here, like this for a little longer. But soon Kabaji would stand and the moment of peace would be gone.
He had never thought Kabaji would betray him; the man's loyalty had always seemed boundless. But he had never tested it in a trial such as this. He could understand Kabaji's motivation for securing the money, but not his actions with Hiyoshi's body. Why hide it, if he intended to reveal Atobe's crime? Or perhaps Kabaji would kill him, thus ensuring there was no one left to tell of the money. He felt more surprised than betrayed; he had not thought Kabaji capable of making plans so intricate, he had never thought much of Kabaji. Always there, always doing his bidding, never questioning, and always obedient.
Atobe thought he could accept death if it came from Kabaji's hands. It would be nothing he did not deserve, and much more merciful than to force him to suffer through a humiliating trial that would undeniably shame his whole family.
He felt the damp rag touch his hand, and untangled his fingers from Kabaji's hair. "Kabaji, what…" he began, and watched as Kabaji gently wiped the blood from his hand. He tried to pull his hand away, but Kabaji closed his fingers around his wrist, and grunted. "Kabaji," Atobe said, and waited until Kabaji lifted his gaze to meet his. "You saw what I did," he said.
"Usu." Kabaji answered, and turned his attention back to Atobe's hand.
"You heard what I told you," Atobe tried again, thinking that perhaps Kabaji had not understood.
"Usu." This time Kabaji did not lift his face, and only paused in his task to dip the rag into the bucket of water and to twist away the excess water. Once done with the hand, Kabaji lifted the rag to Atobe's face, and with an even gentler touch moved the damp rag along Atobe's features. The cloth moved over his eyes, and Atobe had to close his eyelids. He didn't bother opening his eyes again, and when the cloth pressed against his lips, he sighed contently and relaxed. The slightly cold, damp cloth continued to travel on his skin gently, moved from his face to his neck.
Finally Kabaji seemed content, and Atobe heard him stand up. When something was placed on his lap, Atobe opened his eyes and saw Kabaji's brown irises with a warm glow in them. He was ashamed now for his earlier thoughts of Kabaji. He had never seen a gentler gaze, never been on the receiving end of such silent and unshakeable loyalty.
Looking down on his lap Atobe saw his hat and gloves. It was obvious what Kabaji wanted him to do.
When Atobe still only sat in the chair, Kabaji grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him up. The hat and gloves fell on the floor, and Kabaji bent to pick them up. He placed the hat on Atobe's head, and held the gloves in his hand until Atobe took them.
Kabaji walked out of the study, through the dark and empty corridors, and Atobe followed him silently, keeping his head bowed. Walking down the stairs, Atobe kept his hand pressed against the railing, and when he stepped on the bottom step, stopped, and called out to Kabaji who was already standing by the front doors, "Wait, I have to-" Atobe looked behind him, at the stairs they had descended, at the door on his right that led to the room he had just a few hours ago sat before a fire, at the marble floor of the hall, illuminated by the sudden flash of lightning, and at the paintings hanging from the walls, and realized he would never see them again.
Even if Hiyoshi's murder and Ohtori's fate would remain secret, he could never return. Yukimura had stated clearly how much he wanted Atobe, and if Atobe wished to stay alive, he could never return when there were no quarantines that Yukimura would not hear of his return, and he could not use the name of Atobe ever again. The next person that would be called the earl of Atobe would be his cousin. It would take a few years before his family would be able to proclaim him dead, but it would happen eventually.
It should have been more painful to take those few steps towards the front door and step outside where the storm wind had picked up enough strength to snatch the hat from his head.
Kabaji made a move to chase after the hat, but Atobe stopped him by yelling, "No, there's no time!" The wind took his words and carried them to the opposite direction of where Kabaji stood, but the large man stilled and nodded.
Atobe pulled on his gloves, gathered the cloak tightly around him, and walked through the yard to the stables, the harsh wind trying to untie his hair, biting his skin with its coldness even through his clothes.
He pulled open the stable yards, blinking confusedly when yellow light greeted him. For a second he panicked when he saw his mare waiting for him, already saddled, but then he saw the familiar bags on her, and calmed, realising Kabaji had readied her. He strode to the mare, and patted her. She seemed quiet, despite the late hour, and even when the other horses moved restlessly as the wind rattled the stable walls, she remained calm.
A shadow covered him, stepping before the light, and Atobe looked behind him at Kabaji. There was nothing he could have said to Kabaji that would've been enough to show the depth of his gratitude. So he settled on smiling. The smile Kabaji gave him in return was floppy, and hesitant. Atobe thought this might have been the first time he had ever seen it.