DECEMBER 844 AQE
Kentai did not let Wujun down the next night. Or any night thereafter that they arranged to meet over the next month. Every time Wujun snuck out of the cottage, stole across the grounds, and scaled the wall, he found Kentai waiting nearby on the road. From there, they would walk together into town and visit the local inn, which was far more to Wujun’s liking than The Fainting Damsel had been.
They drank the finest alcohol Tiguri offered and ate the fattiest, greasiest meals Wujun had ever tasted. He’d learned several local drinking songs, and just the day before, danced with a plain, but sweet barmaid. Later, when she brought them fresh drinks, she’d invited him up to her room. Kentai had saved him from answering, asserting loudly that he didn’t like to share, and then dragging Wujun close to his side possessively. She’d gotten the hint and gone to pout at another table. At first, he’d thought it a joke, but Kentai’s arm remained draped intimately over his shoulder until they’d left hours later.
His cheeks flushed as he thought about how warm and safe he had felt being so close to Kentai. Even Soki, who was obligated by duty to protect him to the point of giving her own life if necessary, had never made him feel so secure. There was something about the way those steel-gray eyes regarded him, how gentle they became, that stirred feelings inside Wujun that were both exciting and frightening.
He turned his gaze to the window, taking in the grounds and the wall beyond. The wind played through the verdant grass, making the leaves and branches of the trees dance rhythmically. His mind wandered, escaping his body which was trapped inside the cottage, and ventured beyond, seeking Kentai. Where was he now? What did he do during the day? Did he live here in town? Or was he staying at the inn?
They’d talked every night for the last four nights, including their first meeting, and yet Wujun had thought to ask none of these questions. During their second encounter, he’d fought hard not to bring up Naizen or Zosara again, fearing he might offend the man. In fact, he still hadn’t mentioned them, or why Naizen had called him ‘deathfang’, either. It was frustrating. He had so much he wanted to discuss but lacked the nerve to ask when Kentai was near.
He let out a sigh and rested his chin in his hand, telling himself tonight he’d do it. He’d summon the courage and ask Kentai everything that was on his mind.
Or maybe, he considered, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a lazy smile, I’ll take one look into his eyes and forget everything like I do every night…
Thwack!
A rolled up parchment struck Wujun harmlessly upside the head, shattering his daydreams and dragging him back to the stuffy library in the cottage. Goratsu was standing over him, a peevish frown on his narrow face.
“Young Master, if you would like to daydream, kindly do so on your own time,” he chastised, being far more forthcoming with his criticism than he normally was. “I understand that studying the fall of the Qin Empire is dismal compared to frolicking outdoors, but this history is important. It’s your history and you should commit yourself to learning every facet of—”
Wujun blinked at him, having purposefully tuned out most of the lecture, only to be dragged back by the curious way Goratsu had labeled the lesson as his. “My history? What do you mean?” he blurted, wishing in the back of his mind that his inquiries for Kentai would come so easily.
“Well, I…” Goratsu looked taken aback. As though he hadn’t expected Wujun to be paying attention. Or was it more that he’d slipped up and said something he shouldn’t? “I meant only that as a citizen of the land of Ryuutachi—”
Before he could fully recover, their conversation was interrupted by the door abruptly flying open. Soki stepped with purpose into the room, her face more somber than usual. It was for this reason alone the rebuke died on Goratsu’s lips before it had even formed; something was wrong.
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“The scouts have returned. We’re leaving early.” Soki spoke in a clipped voice that left no room for argument.
Goratsu nodded, his own demeanor shifting to match hers. “When?” was all he asked.
“Tonight. The servants are already packing. We’ll sleep a few hours and then leave before dawn…”
Wujun’s mind was racing to catch up. It seemed they had forgotten his presence and were speaking now as though he weren’t in the room. But he was and the last thing he wanted to do was leave. Not now. Not when he had finally connected with someone he could call a genuine friend. It was too much for him to accept.
He slammed his fist down on the table, cutting them off. “No.” The word came out quietly, but it was heavy with emotion. “No, I won’t go. I want to stay here.” An image of Kentai flashed in his mind’s eye and made his heart ache at the notion of never seeing his face again.
“Don’t be ridiculous, young Master.” Goratsu began gathering the books that were laid out on the table. “You knew our stay here was temporary, after all.”
Wujun shook his head. “I don’t care. We’re not leaving.”
Soki was staring at him, her gaze filled with suspicion. She’d been wary of him since the first night he’d snuck out and returned with a scratch on his cheek. He had tried to explain it away, claiming he must have been cut by a tree branch while sitting beneath it that morning, but it was clear she hadn’t believed him.
Goratsu, however, remained oblivious. “Tsk! Come now, you didn’t fuss this much when we left Kibesu and you grew up there. Now, enough foolishness. Go and pack your things. We don’t have the time to argue.”
“Why not?” Wujun challenged, shoving his chair away and standing up so quickly it clattered backward to the floor. “Why don’t we have time?”
The tutor looked astonished that his pupil could be the source of such an outburst, and it took him a moment of gaping before he could form a response. “That is not relevant to this discussion—” It was the wrong answer.
“The fuck it isn’t!” Wujun shouted back, having lost complete control of his temper. The thought of never seeing Kentai again was too much for him. Fear made him reckless, and he paid for it a second later.
The flat of Goratsu’s hand struck the side of Wujun’s face. Not so hard it would leave a mark, but enough it brought involuntary tears to his eyes. For a fleeting second, the old man looked as though he regretted the action, then he shook it off and launched into a new lecture. “Young man,” he scolded, “I don’t know where you came by such foul language, but don’t you ever utter it in my presence again. Do I make myself clear?”
Hands clenched into fists at his side, Wujun glowered at his tutor with open anger for the first time in his life. “You forget.” He didn’t raise his voice again, but it cracked as he spoke. “You work for me, Goratsu. Or at least, you did. Far as I’m concerned…” Despite his anger, the words that came next tore at his heart far more than he would ever admit. “We’re done.”
Wujun shoved his way past the two of them and stalked out of the library without a backward glance. He had argued with Goratsu many times since he had joined the staff as Wujun’s tutor more than a decade ago and yet such bitter words had never passed between them, let alone physical blows.
By the time he reached his room, tears were streaming down his cheeks. He swatted them away, irritated with himself. Wujun had decided. He wouldn’t leave, not without Kentai at the very least. He wasn’t sure if he could convince the swordsman to join them or if Kentai would mind if Wujun stayed in Tiguri with him, but no matter what, he would not be parted. It didn’t matter he’d only known him for a few weeks. Kentai was his friend, and he wasn’t ready to lose him yet. Not if there was any other way to stay together.
Resolved, though still heart sick from his fight with Goratsu, Wujun gathered the few belongings he cared about and threw them in a leather satchel. This comprised of a worn book he was told had been his father’s favorite and an antique hairpin that had belonged to his mother. Otherwise, he packed only a change of clothes and his other personal essentials.
It didn’t matter to him now that it wasn’t dark, that Kentai wouldn’t be waiting. He didn’t care about hiding anymore. Let them know he had left. He had no intention of ever coming back. Still, he left via the window, not wanting to create a scene should someone try to stop him or Soki attempt to follow. It was better if they discovered him missing rather than saw him departing.
Once out the window and down the tree onto the ground, Wujun set his mind on his destination. He would look for Kentai first at the inn and if he wasn’t there, then he’d search until he found the swordsman even if it took all night.
Wujun was so focused on what came next, he didn’t notice the Shadow lurking behind him.