Sukaru knew it must be some unholy hour, given there were no birds—they were something of a natural alarm every spring and summer, but they rose with the sun. Whatever the time was, however, she never seemed to be given a full night’s sleep.
Especially with him on the throne. As soon as the knocking started, she knew who it belonged to. Gods, he couldn’t have been more annoying. Shunji had a way with making her more frustrated than every other ruler before him; Yoshiyo, the man who wanted to fight Sólstaður in the first place, was more tame the ruler that lostSólstaður. She had yet to decide if they grew more disrespectful as time went on, or if they all treated her the same.
“Yanami Sukaru, that thing killed one of the soldiers again.”
She didn’t move much from her bed, responding calmly, “I’m not the one who insisted the boy stayed.”
“It’s going in here with you until we send it out with the next batch of troops.”
“Fine.” Sighing, Sukaru sat up. Shunji only barely opened the door and shoved the boy—she’s been calling him Kioshi, since he never said his real name—into the room.
He must have some portion of Sólstaðuric blood in him—his hair was lighter than anyone she’s known from Kuro, at least, and she never actually saw someone with blue eyes in Kuro before Shunji found him. He only looked to be sixteen, although the longer he spent at Kuro’s palace, the more he looked the part of a monster.
Kioshi always seemed…calmer, when he was with Sukaru. She guessed that a boy from Gin must find the concept of kitsune fascinating—although the nation had tengu, they stayed away from human eyes. Regardless, that meant Sukaru was tasked with watching him after Shunji remembered how dangerous the boy could be.
Sukaru watched the boy carefully, although he just huddled into one corner of the room. He looked more like a child than someone that’s already killed a few dozen people within the palace walls.
She tried to talk to Kioshi while she stood up to put on something more respectable. All she really did was put her normal uniform on top of the simple dress she wore to bed.
“How many did you kill last night?” Sukaru asked the boy.
“…Only one…”
“Good. You’re getting better.”
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“No… I’m just…”
He let out a frustrated noise, and when Sukaru looked back again he was scratching his arms with more force than needed. She walked over to him and took his hands, frowning; he tried to scratch at her, too, but she was getting better at preventing him from doing anything harmful.
“We need you as alive and well as possible,” Sukaru said firmly. “You’re leaving for your first battle today. Out there, you can kill all the silver soldiers you want. Make good use of that bloodlust of yours.”
Kioshi didn’t respond. Seeing that he calmed down some, she let go of his hands; he immediately tried to go further back into the wall, hiding his hands behind him.
Sights like that convinced Sukaru that she must have some remorse left in her, considering her empathy for the child. Nothing more than a tool in the end.
She backed away, and for now sat on her bed; it was still too early for breakfast, although the sun was rising. “There is a way you could avoid fighting,” Sukaru pointed out gently. “I don’t want to use a boy as a weapon against Gin, especially when he looks as trapped as you.”
“I-I…” Kioshi tried to say, but stopping short with a wince. Quietly, then, he shook his head.
She had tried to convince him to leave a few times—he’s been here for almost a year, after all. Miya taught her that she had a soft spot for the kids who were trapped here; Sukaru wished she had that luxury, but a half-shifted kitsune wasn’t a common sight anymore. She’d be back here in an instant if she still wanted to live in normal society, and she was too used to civilization to live with her father’s kin.
Sukaru sighed, knowing no way to influence the boy’s choices and not willing to give him suggestions out loud. She stood up again, walking towards the door. “Get dressed in something cleaner. I’ll see if Shunji will let you look respectable.”
Kioshi nodded and she left the room, never having any trouble with him staying inside of it. Sukaru did her usual morning routine—including the newer parts, like making sure Kioshi was fed so he would live to kill for them—as well as ask Shunji if the boy could look halfway decent for once.
When Sukaru returned to her room, Kioshi was back in his corner in a less bloody outfit—the uniform of Kuro soldiers, excluding the armor. She gave him a plate from the soldier’s meal and sat down on her bed.
“Kill lots of people if you want to come back here,” Sukaru said, bringing back her earlier indifference. “We know that the queen of Gin is among them, as well as some number of northern soldiers—kill the former, and Shunji might just let you free. I’ll be moving to one of the other cities if Gin happens to think they can carry on fighting here.”
Kioshi slightly nodded, but looked up at her for a moment. “You won’t go out there?”
“I’m a strategist, and Kuro’s favorite novelty,” Sukaru replied simply. “I don’t fight—I tell others how theyshould fight.”
The boy didn’t seem pleased, but at least he ate. He looked normal when he was like that. Sukaru recalled something she was told by the first Masaaki to live in Kuro:
“They all said Tsujihara Seiko is normal, but she isn’t—she…wasn’t. She’s killed Gin soldiers, I’m sure of it; she wasn’t above hurting herself, either. On some days when she fought, it felt like she’d end the war, right then and there—and the entirety of Gin while she was at it.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if this strange boy was the same.