Chapter Text
Kazuha sat on a stone bench, watching in amusement as his traveling partner berated the rich, obnoxious Snezhnayan merchant they’d shared the road with for the last several miles.
“—you must be some kind of idiot. But that’s hardly my problem now. Don’t let me see you on the road again or somebody besides me is going to suffer.” After giving the sweating merchant and his bodyguards a final icy stare, Kunikuzushi picked up his bag and stalked over to join Kazuha.
“Morons,” Kuni muttered, perching on the edge of the bench. “They called you my servant.” He opened his bag and began to go through the supplies he’d traded for.
“And now they’re afraid of you.” Kazuha handed his companion one of the onigiri he’d prepared that morning.
“Good! Now they’ll stay out of our way on the road.”
Kazuha munched on his own onigiri, watching as the small daughter of the merchant peeked worriedly out of her father’s carriage. “Do you feel good about it?”
Kunikuzushi followed his gaze and scowled. The girl squeaked and ducked back within the vehicle. “Why would I, dumbass? Do you think I enjoy having to deal with people like that?”
The samurai knew better than to waste his energy on a rhetorical question. Quietly, he finished his own snack and then pulled up his knee and rested his cheek on it, observing how Kuni had only taken one bite of his onigiri and then stopped, staring at it. He gave Kazuha a brief sidelong glance before wrapping up the rice ball again.
“If you thought I was doing something wrong, why didn’t you say something?”
Kazuha smiled crookedly. “What good would that have done, long-term?”
Kunikuzushi’s handsome face twisted in a snarl. “If you’re going to be like that, why did you bother taking responsibility for me?”
“You know, I don’t think I did, exactly.” Kazuha rose to his feet, stretching.
Tucking the rice ball into his bag and the bag into his storage, Kuni stood as well. “In her eyes, you did. And if complaints about me make their way to her, you’ll be paying the price with me now.”
“Heh. Oh no, Raiden has decided I’ve offended her sensibilities and must be punished. Whatever shall I do?” He ran his fingers through the back of Kuni’s thick, fine hair. “I know. Let’s run.” With a teasing final glance he dashed down the road, leaving the Archon’s child cursing as he launched himself in pursuit.
*
The autumn afternoon was crisp and clear, and the road they traveled was sound and well-managed. Kazuha only maintained his lead on Kunikuzushi for a brief time; he could move faster than the Archon’s child, but only briefly, and with great effort. When it mattered, they both knew he would. But here and now, Kazuha ran for the joy of running, and when Kunikuzushi flashed past him glaring, he just laughed and continued his pace.
Eventually he caught up with Kuni sitting in a broad-branched tree by the side of the road. The leaves, half-fallen, had turned golden, but Kuni’s expression was as dark as a winter’s dawn. Kazuha glanced up at him and then bent to run his hand through a drift of leaves, adding a few to his collection. His companion had been withdrawn, even sullen, through the early days of their journey together, and Kazuha had become used to it.
Lately, though, Kunikuzushi become less of the passive puppet he’d apparently started life as. He’d acted as a partner in the making of camps and acquisition of supplies, and his sharp temper, jaded perspective and acerbic mode of speech came leaking out more and more. Kazuha, naturally quiet, hadn’t minded the silence. But he didn’t mind the acid tongue either.
After tucking away his leaves, Kazuha looked up at Kunikuzushi and then sprang up onto the branch beside him. “This is a nice tree. Perfect for taking a nap in.”
“Hah,” said Kuni, but made room for him to sit more comfortably. “Sleeping where anybody can come along and attack you? What a stupid idea.”
Kazuha shrugged. “I’m hard to surprise. But if you want to nap, I can keep watch for a while.”
Kuni twisted so his back was to the trunk and he could easily stare at Kazuha. His eyes closed, but after only a few seconds, one popped open again. “Do you think I was awful to that merchant?”
The samurai faced him, crossed his legs under him and pulled out a small piece of wood and a carving knife. “Does my opinion matter?”
“Yes,” Kuni snapped. “Obviously. I don’t do small talk.” He watched Kazuha work with his knife for a moment and then nudged him with a sandaled foot. “Well?”
Calmly, he said, “Among those I’ve traveled with, you have a unique way of solving problems.”
Kunikuzushi cursed and then tried to boot him out of the tree. Kazuha shifted his balance to maintain his place and stopped carving. “I can give as good as I get, you know.”
“Hah!” Kuni repeated, this time with a sneer. “Then drop the stupid diplomacy.”
Kazuha gave Kuni a long look, until Kuni lowered that violet gaze to gaze at the fallen leaves. Then he shrugged again and said, “You were rude and threatening. But you paid him fairly for the goods and you pointed out how rude his own traveling party was toward other travelers. He isn’t much of a merchant if that’s enough to overset him.”
One of Kuni’s hands closed into a fist as he stared at the leaves. “What about the little girl?”
Kazuha returned to working on the wing of the thunderbird. “I don’t know. Would you like to go back and ask her?”
“Hell no! With a father like hers, she’s probably an utter brat.” He threw himself off the branch, landing as lightly as a dancer on the leaves. “Come on. If we don’t keep moving, they’ll catch up with us and I’ll get even more pissed off.”
Obligingly, Kazuha tucked away his little carving project and followed him to the road. They strolled along side by side for a while, until the distant smell of a river intensified and tickled Kazuha’s nose. Hopefully, he said, “How do you feel about fish for dinner?”
Kuni made a face. “Ugh, again? We had fish a few days ago. And it took you two hours to catch enough to make a meal of. You should have just let me electrocharge them.”
“That would have made a mess of the stream, though,” Kazuha pointed out.
“So would a natural lightning strike,” said Kuni darkly. “Your precious Nature always seems to recover.”
“Nevertheless,” said Kazuha. “So no fish today?”
Kuni gave him a sidelong look. “Not if it’s going to take you two hours. I already told you I don’t want to encounter those assholes on the road again.”
“You know they’re probably heading to the same village we are, right? And I wasn’t exactly planning on rushing our visit there.”
“It’s a lot easier to avoid people in a village,” Kunikuzushi grumbled. “Believe me, I know. Where’s this river of yours?”
Kazuha grinned. “About an hour away. And I promise if the fish are little mouthfuls again, we can catch some squirrels instead.”
His companion winced. “We might as well be eating rats. I’ll just eat the onigiri if you can’t manage decent fish.” He picked up the pace. “Come on, let’s get a move on. I can already hear your stomach growling.”
Smiling to himself, Kazuha caught up.