Dream > 2
He awoke to the pink light of late dawn. The thin futon beneath him was warm - warmer than he would be alone - and there was a rumpled section of blanket next to him. Someone else here. He sat up, rubbing the grit of sleep out of his eyes. The sliding door was open, and a lone, broad-shouldered figure was silhouetted by then rising sun. Souji pushed the covers aside, and padded across the tatami so he could sit behind the taller man, lean up against the warmth of of his back. The messy ponytail kind of tickled where it brushed his neck and the open bit of chest his yukata exposed, but he didn’t mind.
“You should have woken me.”
There was a long exhale, and the scent of tobacco smoke. “You needed the rest. You have a lot of things to do still.” The unspoken sentence of ‘and you’re sick’ hung in the air between them for a moment. Souji pouted slightly against the man’s shoulder, but didn’t argue - he knew it was true.
After a few moments of quiet peace, he pulled away with a small sigh. “I should get ready.”
There was a small nod in reply, and the vice-commander didn’t move as Souji rose, heading back into the room to slip on kimono and hakama. As he reached for his sword sheathe, resting near the wall, the other man finally spoke again. “Come back to me.” No pleading, no begging - just a simple command. Souji smiled slightly at it. “I will.”
He tied the sword sheathe onto his belt, and stepped out past the other man, into the courtyard. It was empty, save for a single figure at the opposite end. The man was familiar to him, glasses, clam face, all of it. Teacher. Mentor. He was dressed in a plain white kimono, the right side folded neatly over the left. Dressed for burial. As Souji took a few steps closer, he could see there was blood staining the white - across the stomach, and running down from his neck into the collar. Sepukku wounds. The man gave him a small, sad smile.
“You did this to me - but it’s not your fault.” He stepped forward, a bamboo blade in his hands. Despite that, when the blade came lunging towards Souji’s chest, it pierced like steel, running him through before he even had a chance to block. His gasp of shock turned into a gurgling noise, the taste of blood clear in his throat.
The other man pulled the blade out again, abandoning it to the ground, and pulled Souji close in a gentle embrace. “All things come with a price, though - even honor.”
A hand came up to brush his bangs out of his face, carefully, even as Souji’s vision was starting to fade. “Remember me, Souji, and be good.”