Prose log with Watari
Who: trueltning_fury and iii_ninja
When: after Watari's tragic strawberry accident
Where: second floor balcony and the tavern
What: talking...angsting...drinking...talking...
Watari sighed and tucked the book he had been reading under his arm. As much as he liked the quiet of the library, Eike's special gloomy touch got to his nerves after extended periods of time in the room. He rose, black and silver leaf yukata whispering around him as he did. He gathered the volume he planned to read and the slightly thinner (actually, much thinner) book he planned to give to Kinnison to read when they did not have lessons. Running a hand through his hair, he head out to the castle foyer to return to his rooms for the night - though that involved going outside for a small time.
With even more on his mind now, and far too much time to kill, Geddoe had returned to his new favorite brooding spot, hanging over the railing of the second floor balcony, this time indoors where he could watch people go by. As distracted as he was by his inner turmoils, the moody captain couldn't help but notice someone go by along the opposite landing - because of the shock of bright pink hair that drew his eye instantly. The man sporting was even more...shocking. "Watari?" he wondered aloud.
Watari paused when he heard his name. He had hoped he would be alone this time of the day in the castle, thinking that might give him time to sneak back to his room without incident. Carefully he relaxed and turned to face the caller. He relaxed a little more when he saw it was Geddoe. "Geddoe," he nodded his head to the man.
Geddoe did not hide his obviously boggled stare. "What in the world happened to you?" His eye traveled to Watari's hair; his usual black and white was startling enough, but the new shade of pink made it all the more so.
Watari restrained an irate comment. He knew Geddoe did not mean anything mean by asking, and to be quite frank he did not beleive Geddoe needed someone else yelling at him. Watari knew he was not good with the human psyche except in matters of making someone deadly afraid or how they worked in battle, but he knew that yelling and being peevish would do no good at least. "A kitchen accident," he elaborated.
Geddoe blinked, his brow knitting in a frown of confusion. "Maybe it would be better off if I didn't ask how something from the kitchen ended up on your head. I'm...sorry," was all he could think of to say.
Watari shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "It was an accident, plain and simple - a failing on my part." He pointed at the pink locks. "Strawberry juice, by the way."
"I see." Geddoe allowed himself one more brief look at the ninja's extra-bizarre hair and shook it off, meeting his eye instead. "I'm sure if any of the women need beauty tips, they'll take that to heart."
Watari's eyebrow twitched, but he restrained any more extreme shows of emotion. "I was informed bleach might solve my problem, but I don't think bleach and hair mix well."
"Well...I don't really know the first thing about it, but..." Geddoe shook his head. "That sounds dangerous. You're more likely to burn your head and end up bald."
"Which is why I decided it might be best to just live with it being pink," Watari touched his hair gingerly. "I am no monk, after all."
"Tch...few of us are," Geddoe grumbled, folding his arms. "For what it's worth, you have my pity. I'm sure the kids are going to adore the new look, but..." He tilted his head, then. "Hm. I think Lady Sialeeds was having some dye issues not too long ago. Maybe she'd know what to do."
Watari paused for a moment. "I beleive I will just lived with being a fruit for the next few days," he admitted.
A slight snort of amusement escaped Geddoe at that remark. "Either way, you have my sympathy," he retorted. "It's hard enough standing out around here without exacerbating the problem."
"A truer thing has yet to be said," Watari replied, reaching to readjust the books underneath his arm.
Geddoe noticed the shift in movement. "Studying up on something?" he asked, vaguely curious and mostly just trying to make small talk. Anything to distract himself.
"Sort of," Watari pulled them out. "I was looking for a book for Kinnison to practice reading in and managed to find one that interested me as well."
Geddoe's dark eyebrow arched in curiosity. "Teaching, as well as cooking? Sounds like you're becoming rather valuable to have around."
"It's a favor to payback a favor," Watari explained as he leafed through the children's book he found - rife with pictures and more complex words than the previous book he'd lent Kinnison.
"Still..." The captain nodded curtly. "You have far more patience than I would. Good luck with that."
"He is a quick learner, actually," Watari snapped the book shut and tucked it back under his arm. "He's doing a majority by himself now. I merely act as an advisor when he finds words he cannot comprehend."
"Well...that's good, I guess." Geddoe hadn't had much experience with Kinnison, he'd only spoken to the archer once or twice and saw him in passing. He took Watari at his word, and shrugged. "I suppose it can't hurt. I don't even know whether Maxine is still teaching...nor do I care. You're probably a better choice."
"It's strange," Watari said after a few moments. "He's just so unlike anyone I've ever met."
The eyebrow went up again. "How so?"
Watari mulled it over for a moment. "He's so...innocent," he murmured.
"Hn." Geddoe nodded slowly. "Not the sort of thing men in our line of work encounter every day."
"He's experienced war and everything that comes with it, but...," Watari paused, as if trying to grasp the right words to describe it. "He wasn't afraid when he first met me. He didn't look at me with suspicion or fear. He just assumed I was a good person, the fool."
Where had he heard that before? The mercenary captain sighed. "Some people were just raised to see the best in everyone, whether they deserve it or not. It's naive and foolish..." His jaw clenched. Not that it didn't warm his heart a little to hear Nanami call him a hero.
"I don't understand it, Geddoe," Watari said. "He just keeps coming back and doing nice things. It bothers me - everything I've been trained for says nothing comes for free, that what he's doing has ulterior motives, but I can't find them."
Geddoe could sympathize - decades of keeping people at arm's length had taught him many of the same lessons. "If there's an ulterior motive, it's his own happiness," he murmured. "People like Kinnison...like Cecile, like several around here...want nothing more in life than to see people happy. If you're happy, he's happy. That's probably all it is. Hardly a flaw," he added to indicate he wasn't accusing the innocent of anything.
But happiness was multi-faceted. That much Watari knew. Happiness was merely a term used to describe someone who got what they wanted in the best way possible, regardless of what said desire was. He looked down at his hand, at the calluses running over his palms and fingers. "What I don't understand is why I can't keep him and everyone else at bay," he muttered, clenching his fist.
"Funny. I have the same problem." Not that there weren't a handful of people Geddoe was glad had found their way past his walls. But the rest? "I don't know what it is about this place. Makes the hardest man soft."
Something about that sentence struck a cord in Watari. For a minute he was standing alone in a forest, his blade slicked with blood, the whispers of bodies arriving around him. Soft? He couldn't afford to be soft. "Then maybe it was a mistake to come here," he murmured.
"Maybe," Geddoe conceded. "But now that you are, you'll find it extremely hard to make yourself leave." He lifted his head and turned his gaze idly away, huffing a sigh. "I just received a six month leave of absence, to remain here at my own whim."
Safety. A way to sleep at night without having to leave one eye open and a dagger in his hand. Being able to make it through the day without wondering if he was being watched or stalked, not having to move without ghost-like speed to keep them from tracking him down and killing him like the bastardly dog he was. Saftey. Was that Budehuc? Sometimes he just thought his presence was drawing something darker closer and closer. So what kept him here then? Was it his 'whim' as Geddoe put it or..."have I given up?" he finished the thought aloud.
Geddoe looked back at him. "Why would you think that?"
Watari didn't immediately answer. He put his hand over his right eye, lost in his own thoughts. When had he made the decision to come to Budehuc? Had it been after the last attack - the one where he'd barely escaped into the night and lost the Kage on his trail? Or was it earlier, when he would wake up every day with aches in his body and mind and wonder if it was even worth rising? He suddenly felt so tired. Tired of everything.
Beginning to think that the query was rhetorical, Geddoe looked away again as he thought about it. Given up? After talking with Wyatt, after everything that had been happening...maybe he ought to ask himself the same question. Maybe he was the one who had given up. The thought made him sigh tiredly.
"This place is just a means to an end," Watari finally said. Yes, that was what it was. Budehuc was not his haven, his bastion. He couldn't place exactly what it was, but somehow he knew it was pulling him towards something, more so since he was a star from the last war. It had called, he answered, and how he was being dragged down a road he couldn't see the end of. That bothered him. No...it frightened him.
A keen look came into Geddoe's one eye. "You're not the first to have said something like that," he mused. "Though I don't think you mean it the same way as the other."
Watari watched Geddoe for some time, taking in the words. Finally he shook his head. This was all to much to think on. He didn't need to think on it. What was the point? Such contemplations were beyond him, nor should he care. He looked back to Geddoe. "Sake is best drank in the afternoon, and with people who appreciate its tastes," he commented.
Geddoe's eye narrowed in interest. "I can't say as I've ever really had sake," he noted as casually as he could.
"I won't be treating you to the Firebird Sake like last time," Watari said, referring to the spicy food contest he and Geddoe had had between themselves.
"Oh, right." The captain shook his head quickly. "No, I'm not in the mood for something as hard as that..." He caught on a second later and lifted his head. "Treating me?"
"I do believe you won that wager," Watari reminded him.
"Ah. To be honest? I'd forgotten all about that part of the debt." Geddoe gave a single nod of agreement. "All right. As long as you don't mind being seen in the tavern with..." His eye traveled upward to Watari's hair again.
Watari sighed. "The moment Mamie or one of the kids sees it, it won't be a secret anymore," he reminded Geddoe. "Not to mention since I work at the cafe people will have to see it at some point, including Sheena."
That actually elicited a faint chuckle from the brooding captain. "Sheena, oh god...I'm so sorry, Watari."
"I will have to warn Mamie to keep the knives chained down," Watari sighed. "Else I might accidentally throw one at that man's back."
"Don't kill him just yet," Geddoe said dryly as he stepped away from the railing and made to walk with Watari downstairs to the tavern. "I know he's annoying but he fought well in our recent struggle...he may be of use yet."
"That is debatable," Watari said with a narrowed eye.
"There's a few like that around here," Geddoe murmured. "They'll rub you the wrong way most days, but in a pinch, they don't let you down."
Watari sniffed. "Well, let me put these in my room and we shall go," he said, waving the books and descending into the depths of the castle towards his quarters in a soft rustle of yukata silk.
Geddoe followed behind, silent as a shadow except for the creak of his leather armor. He never knew where the ninja made his quarters, he took it as a sign of respect that he was allowed to see, though he stood just up the corridor until Watari was done, leaning on a wall with his arms folded.
Watari came back a few moments later, his yukata wrapped a bit more firmly a pair of outdoor straw sandals on his feet. "Shall we?" he asked.
Geddoe nodded and turned to lead the way back upstairs, finding himself relaxing somewhat at the idea of having a drink with a friend. Make that, a friend who wasn't so intimately connected to all of his current worries. It seemed like such a nice idea, enough to lighten his mood as they stepped into the tavern.
"Your choice of rounds," Watari told him, handing Geddoe a small handful of coins to pay for the rounds and selected a darker, secluded corner in the back of the tavern.
Though intrigued by the suggestion of sake, Geddoe only ordered it for the ninja, choosing the house beer for himself. It was still early enough in the day that he didn't want to go overboard. He brought the first round back to the table in the corner and sat across from Watari.
Watari took the sake and the small, almost flat bowl that came with it. Expertly he poured himself a round and pulled his mask down, willing to do so since they were in a darker corner, away from any other midday tavern goers. He sipped from the cup delicately, letting the warm taste of the liquour roll down his throat.
Geddoe sat hunched over the tall tankard he preferred, his hands wrapped protectively around it, though he didn't take a drink just yet. He was content just having it, having a moment to sit and forget. "Thanks," he added to Watari, with a toss of his head to indicate the drinks.
Watari shrugged. "You earned them," he replied, still impressed by Geddoe's ability to swallow to bites of that spicy concoction.
The memory made another small chuckle whiff across Geddoe's lips. "Yeah, the hard way." He finally took a drink, savoring the beer almost thoughtfully. "It was worth it, though. Something...different, for once."
"My cooking has been called that several times," Watari noted, deciding to take the comment on a literal level.
"I bet." Geddoe stared down into his mug. "I've been around a long time, I don't get 'different' very often. It takes a lot to surprise me, so...take it as a compliment."
"Dually noted," Watari said as he poured another small cup of the sake and sipped.
Geddoe tended to drink slowly, deliberately, an old habit to keep himself from losing control while on duty. But he wasn't on duty, he could do anything he wanted...and still he restrained himself. "All things considered," he remarked casually, "it looks like you're fitting in well around here."
"You think?" Watari asked, setting the cup down and folding his arms, pulling his mask back up.
"Teaching people to read, making wagers on your cooking?" Geddoe took another drink and let the taste linger on his lips before continuing. "Yeah, I'd say so. I never saw this much of you during the war."
"Most of my time was spent in a war zone," Watari reminded Geddoe. "Yours as well."
"True. But peacetime doesn't always stop a fighter from treating every situation like a war zone," the captain said wisely.
"No, it does not," Watari agreed. He ran a finger over the rim of his sake cup, a soft chime sounding like a glass cup. "Maybe...we needed to separate ourselves from the war zone..."
"That seems like the best course." Geddoe stared into the depths of his mug again. "Though...men like us can never fully escape it, can we? It will always find us again, one way or another."
"The price we pay for the blood we've shed," Watari said quietly, making the chiming sound again with his sake cup.
Geddoe gazed at the ninja's finger circling the edge of the cup, finding the sound almost soothing. "I don't know about you," he said quietly, "but I'm done running. They can come for me if they want. I'll fight them here, I'll die if I have to, but I'm done."
Watari's finger stopped and he stared at Geddoe. His eye was a mixture of emotions - surprise, understanding, sympathy, jealousy...fear. He poured another cup and slipped his mask down, emptying the cup swiftly and setting it down with a chink and beginning his finger's lazy circle over the rim again. "It makes me tired, the running," he mused aloud.
The captain nodded. He knew vaguely, based on old rumor, that Watari had hunters of his own to evade - that in essence, the two of them shared a problem. "That's why I came here, last fall," he said in a low tone. "I was just tired of it all. I wasn't looking for anything but a little rest." His eye drifted closed as he raised the tankard to drink, but didn't. "I didn't expect to find a reason to live."
"I thought this could become a sanctuary," Watari admitted after a long pause. "Now...now I'm not sure."
"Why not?" Geddoe's eye opened as slowly as it had closed, focusing keenly on Watari. "Not fitting in as well as it looks? Or are you just afraid to trust anyone?"
Watari looked down at the sake cup, ushering a chime from it. "Shadows tend to grow as the sun dips," Watari murmured.
Geddoe took a long drink. "I suck at poetry," he admitted bluntly. "What shadows are you afraid of?"
"They hang over you too," Watari said. "And follow you, waiting to finally engulf you."
A grouchy look passed over Geddoe's face. "Let them," he grumbled, going immediately for another sip. "I am the master of lightning. If I can't blast them away, then they can have me."
"If only we all had it so simply," Watari noted wryly.
"I'm sure it's nowhere near so simple," Geddoe responded, just as dryly, "but right now I don't much care. Eighty years of flinching every time someone says 'Harmonia' has worn me down."
Watari circled the rim of the cup, watching Geddoe then lowering his eye once more. "Kage, in the old tongue, means shadow," he said quietly.
Geddoe raised his eyebrow slightly. "I see. And you figure, this shadow can reach you even here, even in a sanctuary." He gave a stiff shrug. "It's possible. It's possible mine will, too. But here...no one is alone. Whether a handful of comrades, or the whole castle, either way...they just don't leave anyone alone."
Watari's hand stopped and his eye narrowed. "That is what I fear," he said in a dead whisper.
Geddoe's eye closed again. "So. You really do care about them."
"Do I?" Watari asked.
"I suppose it depends on exactly why you're afraid of others fighting alongside you. If you don't want to depend on them, then maybe not so much," Geddoe admitted. "But if it's because you don't want to put them in danger..." Ah, hadn't he had this talk with his lover not too long ago? He sipped at his beer. "...welcome to my world."
"How can I care?" Watari suddenly asked. "I was never trained to. From the time we are accepted as Kage Apprentices were are taught the fundamentals of survival. We have no friends, no lovers, no teachers, no brothers, no sisters. We are alone - everything else is only a hindrance or an enemy. There are no other categories."
"You're asking an impossible question," Geddoe said darkly. "Care isn't something you can be trained to do. It just...is. It's one of those powers that I believe exists inside every human being..." He glared at the back of his right hand, curled on the table beside his mug. "If it didn't, we would be much more easily manipulated by other powers. Unable to resist. Unable to think for ourselves."
The sake cup tipped and ran as it swirled on the table. Watari's eye was wide, staring at the table and the fallen cup. Cared? He had cared back then? Was that it? Was that why he was where he was now? Because he cared about people he didn't know? Cared that the Kage was slaughtering innocents at the will of a madman? He had CARED? How?
The hand on the table clenched into a fist. "I had no stake in the Grasslands, why did I risk everything to save them? Because of someone I cared about. One man. It didn't take much more than that." Geddoe tried to shake it off. "I could not have resisted the True Rune's will for very long if I didn't find something to care about. To put my faith in."
"They'll just destroy what you care about," Watari hissed. "They don't care themselves, but they'll attack what is close to you. Take it away one by one till you're alone in the end."
“Any foe worth his salt would," Geddoe muttered. "I fully expect mine to do so, as well. And the thought pains me. But expecting them to try it, and standing by helplessly while they do so, are two very different things."
That was true. Watari knew it. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, the action bringing to mind the awful color of his hair at the moment. Without warning a laugh escaped his lips, deep and almost gravely. "Not that I'll be hard to find with my hair like it is," he noted.
"I don't know," Geddoe said with a touch of humor, "they won't be expecting a pink-haired ninja. It might throw them off."
"That it might," Watari agreed, righting his sake cup and pouring another drink. He looked at Geddoe and slid it towards him. "Try. It's made from rice and fruits rather than wheat."
Geddoe reached for the tiny cup, fumbled it a little, and decided to take off his heavy glove in order to pick it up more delicately. Doing so exposed the Rune, but he'd stopped caring so much about that months ago. He took a sip, contemplated it, shrugged as if to say "not bad," and downed the rest at once.
Watari noted the rune, but said nothing. It was intriguing, but little more. He took the cup back and poured another round for himself, sipping it with practice elegance.
Tugging his glove back on, Geddoe returned to the half a tankard of beer he had left. "Different," he remarked. "A taste I could get used to. But I bet I could be drunk off it before I even realized it - it has that subtle sense."
"This is one of the less intoxicating versions," Watari tipped the sake container. "The higher intoxication rates go to Firebird and Sakura Sakes."
"The next time I need someone's lips loosened, or their reputation ruined, I'll remember that," Geddoe smirked over the rim of his mug before taking a drink. The taste contrast was obvious.
"It came in handy many times," Watari admitted.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Watari smirked, his mask down so Geddoe could see it, and he sipped his sake without saying a word.
Geddoe scratched idly at the strap of his eyepatch where it irritated his forehead. He didn't want to bring the mood back down, necessarily, but... "Sorry I haven't been the best drinking companion today," he said sheepishly. "That talk about the Kage...touched a little too closely on my own worries at the moment."
"It was...beneficial to talk of them," Watari said. "It makes some of the shadows take form."
"All the better to defeat them." Geddoe raised his mug in a half-hearted toast. "And someday, we will."
Watari watched him for a long moment. But, finally he raised his little sake cup and clinked it against Geddoe's mug. "To someday," he murmured.
"May it be...before another fifty years pass," Geddoe added before sipping to seal the deal.
Watari mimed a sip, but did not add to it. He didn't think he had another fifty years.
The captain placed his hand over the mouth of the mug and slid it aside, even though there was a little splash of beer in the bottom yet. "Thanks for the ante," he murmured. "I think...I'm good, for now."
"We make quite a pair, drinking in the middle of the day," Watari admitted, setting aside the cup and sake. "But it looks like I still owe you another round." He taped the unfinished sake.
Geddoe gave a little shake of his head. "You owe me nothing. The next time you want to treat me, let it be because we're friends, not out of obligation." He pushed back the chair and rose to his feet. "I'll look forward to it."
Watari followed suit with a soft 'hai' to Geddoe's command over asking him to ask him as a friend. They reached outside and Watari sighed as he realized he needed to work tonight to help Mamie with the dinner rush. He turned to Geddoe and nodded, waving a silk clad arm. "Ja ne," he called as he made for the cafe.
Geddoe nodded silently in acknowledgement, remaining standing there. He had his choice of places to go, things to do, to try and keep his mind off deeper matters. The easiest one was right across the hall in the infirmary, so he decided to peek in and see if it was available just then.
When: after Watari's tragic strawberry accident
Where: second floor balcony and the tavern
What: talking...angsting...drinking...talking...
Watari sighed and tucked the book he had been reading under his arm. As much as he liked the quiet of the library, Eike's special gloomy touch got to his nerves after extended periods of time in the room. He rose, black and silver leaf yukata whispering around him as he did. He gathered the volume he planned to read and the slightly thinner (actually, much thinner) book he planned to give to Kinnison to read when they did not have lessons. Running a hand through his hair, he head out to the castle foyer to return to his rooms for the night - though that involved going outside for a small time.
With even more on his mind now, and far too much time to kill, Geddoe had returned to his new favorite brooding spot, hanging over the railing of the second floor balcony, this time indoors where he could watch people go by. As distracted as he was by his inner turmoils, the moody captain couldn't help but notice someone go by along the opposite landing - because of the shock of bright pink hair that drew his eye instantly. The man sporting was even more...shocking. "Watari?" he wondered aloud.
Watari paused when he heard his name. He had hoped he would be alone this time of the day in the castle, thinking that might give him time to sneak back to his room without incident. Carefully he relaxed and turned to face the caller. He relaxed a little more when he saw it was Geddoe. "Geddoe," he nodded his head to the man.
Geddoe did not hide his obviously boggled stare. "What in the world happened to you?" His eye traveled to Watari's hair; his usual black and white was startling enough, but the new shade of pink made it all the more so.
Watari restrained an irate comment. He knew Geddoe did not mean anything mean by asking, and to be quite frank he did not beleive Geddoe needed someone else yelling at him. Watari knew he was not good with the human psyche except in matters of making someone deadly afraid or how they worked in battle, but he knew that yelling and being peevish would do no good at least. "A kitchen accident," he elaborated.
Geddoe blinked, his brow knitting in a frown of confusion. "Maybe it would be better off if I didn't ask how something from the kitchen ended up on your head. I'm...sorry," was all he could think of to say.
Watari shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "It was an accident, plain and simple - a failing on my part." He pointed at the pink locks. "Strawberry juice, by the way."
"I see." Geddoe allowed himself one more brief look at the ninja's extra-bizarre hair and shook it off, meeting his eye instead. "I'm sure if any of the women need beauty tips, they'll take that to heart."
Watari's eyebrow twitched, but he restrained any more extreme shows of emotion. "I was informed bleach might solve my problem, but I don't think bleach and hair mix well."
"Well...I don't really know the first thing about it, but..." Geddoe shook his head. "That sounds dangerous. You're more likely to burn your head and end up bald."
"Which is why I decided it might be best to just live with it being pink," Watari touched his hair gingerly. "I am no monk, after all."
"Tch...few of us are," Geddoe grumbled, folding his arms. "For what it's worth, you have my pity. I'm sure the kids are going to adore the new look, but..." He tilted his head, then. "Hm. I think Lady Sialeeds was having some dye issues not too long ago. Maybe she'd know what to do."
Watari paused for a moment. "I beleive I will just lived with being a fruit for the next few days," he admitted.
A slight snort of amusement escaped Geddoe at that remark. "Either way, you have my sympathy," he retorted. "It's hard enough standing out around here without exacerbating the problem."
"A truer thing has yet to be said," Watari replied, reaching to readjust the books underneath his arm.
Geddoe noticed the shift in movement. "Studying up on something?" he asked, vaguely curious and mostly just trying to make small talk. Anything to distract himself.
"Sort of," Watari pulled them out. "I was looking for a book for Kinnison to practice reading in and managed to find one that interested me as well."
Geddoe's dark eyebrow arched in curiosity. "Teaching, as well as cooking? Sounds like you're becoming rather valuable to have around."
"It's a favor to payback a favor," Watari explained as he leafed through the children's book he found - rife with pictures and more complex words than the previous book he'd lent Kinnison.
"Still..." The captain nodded curtly. "You have far more patience than I would. Good luck with that."
"He is a quick learner, actually," Watari snapped the book shut and tucked it back under his arm. "He's doing a majority by himself now. I merely act as an advisor when he finds words he cannot comprehend."
"Well...that's good, I guess." Geddoe hadn't had much experience with Kinnison, he'd only spoken to the archer once or twice and saw him in passing. He took Watari at his word, and shrugged. "I suppose it can't hurt. I don't even know whether Maxine is still teaching...nor do I care. You're probably a better choice."
"It's strange," Watari said after a few moments. "He's just so unlike anyone I've ever met."
The eyebrow went up again. "How so?"
Watari mulled it over for a moment. "He's so...innocent," he murmured.
"Hn." Geddoe nodded slowly. "Not the sort of thing men in our line of work encounter every day."
"He's experienced war and everything that comes with it, but...," Watari paused, as if trying to grasp the right words to describe it. "He wasn't afraid when he first met me. He didn't look at me with suspicion or fear. He just assumed I was a good person, the fool."
Where had he heard that before? The mercenary captain sighed. "Some people were just raised to see the best in everyone, whether they deserve it or not. It's naive and foolish..." His jaw clenched. Not that it didn't warm his heart a little to hear Nanami call him a hero.
"I don't understand it, Geddoe," Watari said. "He just keeps coming back and doing nice things. It bothers me - everything I've been trained for says nothing comes for free, that what he's doing has ulterior motives, but I can't find them."
Geddoe could sympathize - decades of keeping people at arm's length had taught him many of the same lessons. "If there's an ulterior motive, it's his own happiness," he murmured. "People like Kinnison...like Cecile, like several around here...want nothing more in life than to see people happy. If you're happy, he's happy. That's probably all it is. Hardly a flaw," he added to indicate he wasn't accusing the innocent of anything.
But happiness was multi-faceted. That much Watari knew. Happiness was merely a term used to describe someone who got what they wanted in the best way possible, regardless of what said desire was. He looked down at his hand, at the calluses running over his palms and fingers. "What I don't understand is why I can't keep him and everyone else at bay," he muttered, clenching his fist.
"Funny. I have the same problem." Not that there weren't a handful of people Geddoe was glad had found their way past his walls. But the rest? "I don't know what it is about this place. Makes the hardest man soft."
Something about that sentence struck a cord in Watari. For a minute he was standing alone in a forest, his blade slicked with blood, the whispers of bodies arriving around him. Soft? He couldn't afford to be soft. "Then maybe it was a mistake to come here," he murmured.
"Maybe," Geddoe conceded. "But now that you are, you'll find it extremely hard to make yourself leave." He lifted his head and turned his gaze idly away, huffing a sigh. "I just received a six month leave of absence, to remain here at my own whim."
Safety. A way to sleep at night without having to leave one eye open and a dagger in his hand. Being able to make it through the day without wondering if he was being watched or stalked, not having to move without ghost-like speed to keep them from tracking him down and killing him like the bastardly dog he was. Saftey. Was that Budehuc? Sometimes he just thought his presence was drawing something darker closer and closer. So what kept him here then? Was it his 'whim' as Geddoe put it or..."have I given up?" he finished the thought aloud.
Geddoe looked back at him. "Why would you think that?"
Watari didn't immediately answer. He put his hand over his right eye, lost in his own thoughts. When had he made the decision to come to Budehuc? Had it been after the last attack - the one where he'd barely escaped into the night and lost the Kage on his trail? Or was it earlier, when he would wake up every day with aches in his body and mind and wonder if it was even worth rising? He suddenly felt so tired. Tired of everything.
Beginning to think that the query was rhetorical, Geddoe looked away again as he thought about it. Given up? After talking with Wyatt, after everything that had been happening...maybe he ought to ask himself the same question. Maybe he was the one who had given up. The thought made him sigh tiredly.
"This place is just a means to an end," Watari finally said. Yes, that was what it was. Budehuc was not his haven, his bastion. He couldn't place exactly what it was, but somehow he knew it was pulling him towards something, more so since he was a star from the last war. It had called, he answered, and how he was being dragged down a road he couldn't see the end of. That bothered him. No...it frightened him.
A keen look came into Geddoe's one eye. "You're not the first to have said something like that," he mused. "Though I don't think you mean it the same way as the other."
Watari watched Geddoe for some time, taking in the words. Finally he shook his head. This was all to much to think on. He didn't need to think on it. What was the point? Such contemplations were beyond him, nor should he care. He looked back to Geddoe. "Sake is best drank in the afternoon, and with people who appreciate its tastes," he commented.
Geddoe's eye narrowed in interest. "I can't say as I've ever really had sake," he noted as casually as he could.
"I won't be treating you to the Firebird Sake like last time," Watari said, referring to the spicy food contest he and Geddoe had had between themselves.
"Oh, right." The captain shook his head quickly. "No, I'm not in the mood for something as hard as that..." He caught on a second later and lifted his head. "Treating me?"
"I do believe you won that wager," Watari reminded him.
"Ah. To be honest? I'd forgotten all about that part of the debt." Geddoe gave a single nod of agreement. "All right. As long as you don't mind being seen in the tavern with..." His eye traveled upward to Watari's hair again.
Watari sighed. "The moment Mamie or one of the kids sees it, it won't be a secret anymore," he reminded Geddoe. "Not to mention since I work at the cafe people will have to see it at some point, including Sheena."
That actually elicited a faint chuckle from the brooding captain. "Sheena, oh god...I'm so sorry, Watari."
"I will have to warn Mamie to keep the knives chained down," Watari sighed. "Else I might accidentally throw one at that man's back."
"Don't kill him just yet," Geddoe said dryly as he stepped away from the railing and made to walk with Watari downstairs to the tavern. "I know he's annoying but he fought well in our recent struggle...he may be of use yet."
"That is debatable," Watari said with a narrowed eye.
"There's a few like that around here," Geddoe murmured. "They'll rub you the wrong way most days, but in a pinch, they don't let you down."
Watari sniffed. "Well, let me put these in my room and we shall go," he said, waving the books and descending into the depths of the castle towards his quarters in a soft rustle of yukata silk.
Geddoe followed behind, silent as a shadow except for the creak of his leather armor. He never knew where the ninja made his quarters, he took it as a sign of respect that he was allowed to see, though he stood just up the corridor until Watari was done, leaning on a wall with his arms folded.
Watari came back a few moments later, his yukata wrapped a bit more firmly a pair of outdoor straw sandals on his feet. "Shall we?" he asked.
Geddoe nodded and turned to lead the way back upstairs, finding himself relaxing somewhat at the idea of having a drink with a friend. Make that, a friend who wasn't so intimately connected to all of his current worries. It seemed like such a nice idea, enough to lighten his mood as they stepped into the tavern.
"Your choice of rounds," Watari told him, handing Geddoe a small handful of coins to pay for the rounds and selected a darker, secluded corner in the back of the tavern.
Though intrigued by the suggestion of sake, Geddoe only ordered it for the ninja, choosing the house beer for himself. It was still early enough in the day that he didn't want to go overboard. He brought the first round back to the table in the corner and sat across from Watari.
Watari took the sake and the small, almost flat bowl that came with it. Expertly he poured himself a round and pulled his mask down, willing to do so since they were in a darker corner, away from any other midday tavern goers. He sipped from the cup delicately, letting the warm taste of the liquour roll down his throat.
Geddoe sat hunched over the tall tankard he preferred, his hands wrapped protectively around it, though he didn't take a drink just yet. He was content just having it, having a moment to sit and forget. "Thanks," he added to Watari, with a toss of his head to indicate the drinks.
Watari shrugged. "You earned them," he replied, still impressed by Geddoe's ability to swallow to bites of that spicy concoction.
The memory made another small chuckle whiff across Geddoe's lips. "Yeah, the hard way." He finally took a drink, savoring the beer almost thoughtfully. "It was worth it, though. Something...different, for once."
"My cooking has been called that several times," Watari noted, deciding to take the comment on a literal level.
"I bet." Geddoe stared down into his mug. "I've been around a long time, I don't get 'different' very often. It takes a lot to surprise me, so...take it as a compliment."
"Dually noted," Watari said as he poured another small cup of the sake and sipped.
Geddoe tended to drink slowly, deliberately, an old habit to keep himself from losing control while on duty. But he wasn't on duty, he could do anything he wanted...and still he restrained himself. "All things considered," he remarked casually, "it looks like you're fitting in well around here."
"You think?" Watari asked, setting the cup down and folding his arms, pulling his mask back up.
"Teaching people to read, making wagers on your cooking?" Geddoe took another drink and let the taste linger on his lips before continuing. "Yeah, I'd say so. I never saw this much of you during the war."
"Most of my time was spent in a war zone," Watari reminded Geddoe. "Yours as well."
"True. But peacetime doesn't always stop a fighter from treating every situation like a war zone," the captain said wisely.
"No, it does not," Watari agreed. He ran a finger over the rim of his sake cup, a soft chime sounding like a glass cup. "Maybe...we needed to separate ourselves from the war zone..."
"That seems like the best course." Geddoe stared into the depths of his mug again. "Though...men like us can never fully escape it, can we? It will always find us again, one way or another."
"The price we pay for the blood we've shed," Watari said quietly, making the chiming sound again with his sake cup.
Geddoe gazed at the ninja's finger circling the edge of the cup, finding the sound almost soothing. "I don't know about you," he said quietly, "but I'm done running. They can come for me if they want. I'll fight them here, I'll die if I have to, but I'm done."
Watari's finger stopped and he stared at Geddoe. His eye was a mixture of emotions - surprise, understanding, sympathy, jealousy...fear. He poured another cup and slipped his mask down, emptying the cup swiftly and setting it down with a chink and beginning his finger's lazy circle over the rim again. "It makes me tired, the running," he mused aloud.
The captain nodded. He knew vaguely, based on old rumor, that Watari had hunters of his own to evade - that in essence, the two of them shared a problem. "That's why I came here, last fall," he said in a low tone. "I was just tired of it all. I wasn't looking for anything but a little rest." His eye drifted closed as he raised the tankard to drink, but didn't. "I didn't expect to find a reason to live."
"I thought this could become a sanctuary," Watari admitted after a long pause. "Now...now I'm not sure."
"Why not?" Geddoe's eye opened as slowly as it had closed, focusing keenly on Watari. "Not fitting in as well as it looks? Or are you just afraid to trust anyone?"
Watari looked down at the sake cup, ushering a chime from it. "Shadows tend to grow as the sun dips," Watari murmured.
Geddoe took a long drink. "I suck at poetry," he admitted bluntly. "What shadows are you afraid of?"
"They hang over you too," Watari said. "And follow you, waiting to finally engulf you."
A grouchy look passed over Geddoe's face. "Let them," he grumbled, going immediately for another sip. "I am the master of lightning. If I can't blast them away, then they can have me."
"If only we all had it so simply," Watari noted wryly.
"I'm sure it's nowhere near so simple," Geddoe responded, just as dryly, "but right now I don't much care. Eighty years of flinching every time someone says 'Harmonia' has worn me down."
Watari circled the rim of the cup, watching Geddoe then lowering his eye once more. "Kage, in the old tongue, means shadow," he said quietly.
Geddoe raised his eyebrow slightly. "I see. And you figure, this shadow can reach you even here, even in a sanctuary." He gave a stiff shrug. "It's possible. It's possible mine will, too. But here...no one is alone. Whether a handful of comrades, or the whole castle, either way...they just don't leave anyone alone."
Watari's hand stopped and his eye narrowed. "That is what I fear," he said in a dead whisper.
Geddoe's eye closed again. "So. You really do care about them."
"Do I?" Watari asked.
"I suppose it depends on exactly why you're afraid of others fighting alongside you. If you don't want to depend on them, then maybe not so much," Geddoe admitted. "But if it's because you don't want to put them in danger..." Ah, hadn't he had this talk with his lover not too long ago? He sipped at his beer. "...welcome to my world."
"How can I care?" Watari suddenly asked. "I was never trained to. From the time we are accepted as Kage Apprentices were are taught the fundamentals of survival. We have no friends, no lovers, no teachers, no brothers, no sisters. We are alone - everything else is only a hindrance or an enemy. There are no other categories."
"You're asking an impossible question," Geddoe said darkly. "Care isn't something you can be trained to do. It just...is. It's one of those powers that I believe exists inside every human being..." He glared at the back of his right hand, curled on the table beside his mug. "If it didn't, we would be much more easily manipulated by other powers. Unable to resist. Unable to think for ourselves."
The sake cup tipped and ran as it swirled on the table. Watari's eye was wide, staring at the table and the fallen cup. Cared? He had cared back then? Was that it? Was that why he was where he was now? Because he cared about people he didn't know? Cared that the Kage was slaughtering innocents at the will of a madman? He had CARED? How?
The hand on the table clenched into a fist. "I had no stake in the Grasslands, why did I risk everything to save them? Because of someone I cared about. One man. It didn't take much more than that." Geddoe tried to shake it off. "I could not have resisted the True Rune's will for very long if I didn't find something to care about. To put my faith in."
"They'll just destroy what you care about," Watari hissed. "They don't care themselves, but they'll attack what is close to you. Take it away one by one till you're alone in the end."
“Any foe worth his salt would," Geddoe muttered. "I fully expect mine to do so, as well. And the thought pains me. But expecting them to try it, and standing by helplessly while they do so, are two very different things."
That was true. Watari knew it. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, the action bringing to mind the awful color of his hair at the moment. Without warning a laugh escaped his lips, deep and almost gravely. "Not that I'll be hard to find with my hair like it is," he noted.
"I don't know," Geddoe said with a touch of humor, "they won't be expecting a pink-haired ninja. It might throw them off."
"That it might," Watari agreed, righting his sake cup and pouring another drink. He looked at Geddoe and slid it towards him. "Try. It's made from rice and fruits rather than wheat."
Geddoe reached for the tiny cup, fumbled it a little, and decided to take off his heavy glove in order to pick it up more delicately. Doing so exposed the Rune, but he'd stopped caring so much about that months ago. He took a sip, contemplated it, shrugged as if to say "not bad," and downed the rest at once.
Watari noted the rune, but said nothing. It was intriguing, but little more. He took the cup back and poured another round for himself, sipping it with practice elegance.
Tugging his glove back on, Geddoe returned to the half a tankard of beer he had left. "Different," he remarked. "A taste I could get used to. But I bet I could be drunk off it before I even realized it - it has that subtle sense."
"This is one of the less intoxicating versions," Watari tipped the sake container. "The higher intoxication rates go to Firebird and Sakura Sakes."
"The next time I need someone's lips loosened, or their reputation ruined, I'll remember that," Geddoe smirked over the rim of his mug before taking a drink. The taste contrast was obvious.
"It came in handy many times," Watari admitted.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Watari smirked, his mask down so Geddoe could see it, and he sipped his sake without saying a word.
Geddoe scratched idly at the strap of his eyepatch where it irritated his forehead. He didn't want to bring the mood back down, necessarily, but... "Sorry I haven't been the best drinking companion today," he said sheepishly. "That talk about the Kage...touched a little too closely on my own worries at the moment."
"It was...beneficial to talk of them," Watari said. "It makes some of the shadows take form."
"All the better to defeat them." Geddoe raised his mug in a half-hearted toast. "And someday, we will."
Watari watched him for a long moment. But, finally he raised his little sake cup and clinked it against Geddoe's mug. "To someday," he murmured.
"May it be...before another fifty years pass," Geddoe added before sipping to seal the deal.
Watari mimed a sip, but did not add to it. He didn't think he had another fifty years.
The captain placed his hand over the mouth of the mug and slid it aside, even though there was a little splash of beer in the bottom yet. "Thanks for the ante," he murmured. "I think...I'm good, for now."
"We make quite a pair, drinking in the middle of the day," Watari admitted, setting aside the cup and sake. "But it looks like I still owe you another round." He taped the unfinished sake.
Geddoe gave a little shake of his head. "You owe me nothing. The next time you want to treat me, let it be because we're friends, not out of obligation." He pushed back the chair and rose to his feet. "I'll look forward to it."
Watari followed suit with a soft 'hai' to Geddoe's command over asking him to ask him as a friend. They reached outside and Watari sighed as he realized he needed to work tonight to help Mamie with the dinner rush. He turned to Geddoe and nodded, waving a silk clad arm. "Ja ne," he called as he made for the cafe.
Geddoe nodded silently in acknowledgement, remaining standing there. He had his choice of places to go, things to do, to try and keep his mind off deeper matters. The easiest one was right across the hall in the infirmary, so he decided to peek in and see if it was available just then.