A/N: I got sucked in reading fanfiction instead of writing them but was pleasantly surprised to see more people reading this fic. I will make sure Kuroda and Tsukishima get a happy ending in this universe.
Next update will be much, much sooner. Reviews, suggestions and feedbacks are always appreciated! :D
Chapter 3: Escape
This is practically a kidnapping.
Kuroda's hands shook as he tightened the knots on the ropes bounding Tsukishima's wrists and ankles. A clean undershirt stuffed into the mouth for good measure, just in case Tsukishima woke up along the way and decided to start screaming.
I'm sorry about this Tsukishima, Kuroda silently apologized. He wrapped the man in a dark grey blanket and hoisted the body over his shoulder, grateful that Tsukishima wasn't the large muscular type – it would have made the job much more difficult for him.
Slipping out the back door in the kitchen, Kuroda stepped into the garden where a large cherry blossom tree stood, branches swaying and green leaves rustling with the wind.
By the time their troops had retreated back home, spring was almost over; Seya and he had missed hanami season this year. The three of them had spent many springs and summers lying underneath this very canopy, eating biscuits and chatting about everything under the sun. An involuntary wave of sadness surged through him when he realized that there would not be a next time, heck this was probably the last time he would even get to be here. Kuroda wondered if he was just being whimsical but sometimes he wished he could play such happy and carefree moments with his best friends on an endless loop.
The moon was hidden behind stormy clouds that night and it was rather dark when Kuroda crossed the garden. The Tsukishima family estate was surrounded by a low wall about 3 - 4 meters in height, and Kuroda concluded that it would be a feasible plan to get Tsukishima over it. He propped a small ladder against the wall and climbed with difficulty; it was a straining task to prevent Tsukishima from falling out of his grasp.
He started to slowly lift Tsukishima over the top of the wall. Truthfully his wounds were unbearably painful and his ribs gave a sharp ache with each breath but the sheer force of adrenaline kept him going. Carefully, he lowered Tsukishima feet first onto the dirt road outside and arranged for the man to slump gently against the wall.
The raven head decided that it would be best for him to go out the front door and make it look like he had gone home, instead of climbing over the wall. When Kuroda finally hobbled back out the front gates, he kept his gaze trained on the ground; he felt as if his eyes would betray him for the act of mutiny that he had just committed.
"We're sorry Kuroda-dono."
"Have a safe journey home Kuroda-dono."
Kuroda nodded stiffly and lowered his head even further, hair matted against his pale forehead and heart pounding with anxiety. He limped along the path, feeling the guards' eyes on his back and practically sprinted (or staggered, more like) once he turned round the corner. He could see the dark bundle lying still at the sidewalk, it seems that fortunately Tsukishima was still passed out.
Kuroda heaved the slight man once again on his shoulders, feeling his knees wobble under the weight. On a regular day he could carry Tsukishima on his back all the way to the town center but tonight he found his body shaking with every step, sweat drenching his yukata.
His neck throbbed dully, keeping him awake.
Kuroda hobbled home as fast as he could (which luckily was not far as the three of them were practically neighbors) and laid Tsukishima down on his father's wheelbarrow parked outside. He hurried towards the small stable to the right of the front yard and saw that Shino his beloved horse was awake, snorting quietly, his nostrils vibrating.
Kuroda untied him and stroked the beast's chestnut back as he steered him gently out of the stable, knowing that Shino was impatient and ready to go. Kuroda harnessed him up and hitched him to the wheelbarrow with practiced ease, before rushing indoors for provisions. He packed some clothing, blankets, a few weapons and the little bit of food, water and money left in the house. Back outside the house, a mild breeze raked past and he quickly wrapped a dark cloak around himself, before mounting his horse. Kuroda hoped it wouldn't rain tonight. Taking a deep reassuring breath, he led them westward, towards the mountains.
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Sometime an hour or so into the journey Tsukishima had woken up, Kuroda could hear muffled yells coming from the dark bundle thrashing on the wheelbarrow behind him.
His first instinct was to uncover his friend and offer him water however he decided against it. A screaming Tsukishima in the dead of night would surely ruin his plans. The fact that daybreak was only a few hours away also prompted him to keep moving, trying to put as much distance between them and the village as possible.
He could only hope that Tsukishima wouldn't die of thirst during the journey.
The man sprawled across the wheelbarrow eventually gave up or fell back asleep after an hour of flailing around and Kuroda apologized wordlessly over and over. Fear and guilt had been eating him alive and more than once he had wondered if he should turn back before it was too late; nevertheless with each step Shino took, the more bolstered Kuroda was to stick to his decision.
It's too late to turn back now anyway.
The first amber rays of sunlight had begun to reflect upon the horizon behind them, tinting the sky in a beautiful wash of pink and orange. Yet Kuroda couldn't bring himself to enjoy the view, what with his back facing the sunrise and also the fact that the small procession was heading deeper into the forest, the canopy overhead getting too dense to allow much sunlight through. A sliver of sky here and there but that was all.
The ritual would have started right around now, he realized with a jolt and his belly clenched from a strange combination of fear and relief. Kuroda looked back at Tsukishima's sleeping face (he had uncovered the man's face from under the blanket to let him breathe easier, albeit still with an undershirt stuffed in his mouth) and watched the strand of hair near his nose flutter at steady intervals.
He's still breathing and that's all that matters. He has made the right decision.
They were reaching the base of the mountain range and Shino was moving slower, visibly tired. Kuroda himself was on the brink of collapse; there was a hammering in his head and his body felt unbearably warm, although chilly pinpricks invaded every inch of his skin. The dull pain coursing through his body, the irritating buzzing of mosquitoes and chirping of crickets were the only things that prevented him from falling asleep on his horse. His neck had just given him a particularly nasty throb when he heard a creek bubble in the near distance.
Spotting a rather wide crevice in between the large boulders, Kuroda halted Shino to a stop and clambered off; they would rest here for a few hours. His knees folded as he landed on the ground, joints popping and aching stiffly from underuse… his back and tailbone were also killing him. The area was covered by overgrown bushes and he liked the privacy it offered, as well as having a water source close by.
After securing Shino onto a tree (the horse started eating the abundant grass around his hooves), Kuroda picked Tsukishima up and carried him bridal style into the dark opening in the mountain wall, trying not to jostle the man too much. He placed him on a soft patch of grass and gently pried the undershirt out of Tsukishima's mouth before cutting the ropes binding him loose. He then left a gourd canteen filled with water beside the brunette's sleeping form.
"I'm sorry Tsukishima," Kuroda uttered out loud, his forefinger tracing an invisible line on the other man's cheek and watched Tsukishima's lashes quiver in his sleep. Before he could reach for the gourd for a sip of water, he felt sleep overtake him the moment he laid his body on the ground, his consciousness ebbing away and faded into darkness.