What place was better for getting a good rest than a graveyard? After all, that was exactly where the dead got to enjoy an eternal slumber! Ghost stories aside, Junko found that night to be the first quiet moment she got to experience in quite some time. Naturally a bodyguard like herself couldn’t actually sleep until the job was done but she nodded off occasionally in between remaining vigilant. The work of a solo mercenary required plenty of similar nights. As far as this week had gone she could have done a lot worse.

Gekko, on the other hand, slept like a log. The boy certainly could pass out in a hurry once well fed. Periodically Junko ventured over to make sure the kid hadn’t pulled a pillow switcheroo on her, but he seemed quite content to just nap the night away under a flimsy bedroll provided by Motonubu. Terrible accommodations but, again, given the context, it could be a lot worse.

A sense of relief passed over Junko as dawn began to break. While ominous clouds threatened rain all night and still seemed to persist into the early morning, seeing the day’s light meant at least there wouldn’t be any ambushes from the shadows. Junko was able to drop her guard just a bit and even started a small smokeless fire to heat up some rations. A hot meal would put her in a better mood. Maybe Gekko would even mellow out and stop being such a brat.

Taking care to keep the smell to an absolute minimum Junko put together a little meal with some tinned ‘meat’ and toasted bread. Compared to the dried, crusty garbage that made up almost all of their meals so far, this looked like a positively luxuriant spread. The food disappeared down her throat almost as soon as she could smell the sizzling fat. It washed down quite well with another swig of dark liquid from her gourd. Just like a camping trip, wasn’t it?

But all (relatively) good things eventually came to an end. Her risky play ended up biting her in the butt as no amount of careful planning could keep the smell of breakfast from getting to troublesome noses. Before she could make seconds Gekko pulled himself out of his slumber and crawled towards the fire, stirred by the scent of food.

Of course his first comment was “That smells terrible. Where did you learn to cook?”

No, no. She wouldn’t let the child ruin her morning. Instead she wordlessly took out more of the rations Motonubu left behind and just started churning up another can of slop. Having not gotten a response Gekko resigned himself to just watching the food slurry boil in its can as Junko maneuvered it over the tiny coal fire. Eventually he did offer one more unrequested comment. “What, no coffee either?”

Any further commentary would have to wait for later. Gekko was too busy shoveling the hot meal into his mouth with a nasty looking spoon to provide any more scathing critiques. Junko snorted, then snuffed out the fire with her boot. Enough daylight now covered the sky that the shadows of the largest gravestones were beginning to move. This would be the last day of the job, surely. Once Motonubu returned they could finish up his dumb wild goose chase and then she could focus on getting off this horrible island. That relied on Gekko’s cooperation but she doubted the boy’s resistance could last much longer. After all, the alternative was far less pleasant, the canned meat breakfast aside.

Just as she was about to take up watch again, Gekko's grumbly voice finally came out again, albeit muffled somewhat by a mouth still partially full of food. “I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”

Junko didn’t turn her head from gazing out past the rows of grave markers, but she did manage a very dismissive response. “Great. Tell it to Motonubu when he gets back.”

Gekko swallowed a gulp of water from his own gourd, then let out a satisfied exhale. “You’re going to work for me now.”

Was this another bit from him? Gekko seemed to cope by making outrageous statements he couldn’t back up. Junko already learned the best approach was not to respond, but her good mood might have been getting the better of her. “Oh yeah? You offering something better than ancient heavenly relics, kid?”

“Yup.” Gekko leaned back and rubbed his injured arm in a completely casual manner, as if he weren’t a hostage at all. “That Motonubu guy is lying through his teeth. He’s not going to get you off the island. Only someone with Annitou connections can do that.” For emphasis he jabbed his own chest with a thumb, although it was pointless because Junko wasn’t even looking at him. “That’s just me, lady. No other Annitou soldier is going to hear you out.”

“Gee, what a compelling offer.” Junko took one of her hands off the hilt of her weapon to tug at the hem of her cloak. “You make my job as hard as possible then start threatening me. That’s a real winning combination.”

“If the Garion creep is right,” Gekko carried on as if he didn’t hear, “and there’s some big important weapon nearby, whatever crimes you’ve committed against Annitou in the past will be forgiven if you can deliver it to them in one piece. That’s in my best interest too. We have a common goal.”

“That’s a lot of big ifs.”

“...it might be more likely than you think.” Gekko reached over towards the supply bag and started rummaging through it for more food. “I’m supposed to translate something, right? I’ve been reading the Bossa text left around here and I think I know what it is that the Motonubu thug wants me to look at. We could go translate it right now before he gets back and take whatever we find for ourselves.”

Now that seemed like some actionable intelligence. Junko finally deigned to turn her head towards Gekko, who was now stuffing his face with more bread. “Let’s pretend that I’d even humor that idea. What’s to stop you from stabbing me in the back as soon as I turn you back over to Annitou? You could just say you outsmarted me or some other hogwash and then I’d spend the rest of my life on an Annitou prison ship.”

“Well,” Gekko garbled out through the crumbs, “You’d probably be executed, actually, so I wouldn’t worry about serving time.”

“Now you’re really selling it.”

“But,” he stretched and shrugged. “I guess I can’t really guarantee it. Not any more than that butthead Motonubu can guarantee his side either. I have no reason to betray you other than revenge, though. Motonubu has every reason to stab you in the back.” Gekko made a little stabbing motion as though Junko might not understand the concept. “Who are you going to trust? Some shady Garion Agent who doesn’t even give you the whole story, or innocent fragile little Tanuma Gakko?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“...if the last week is any indication,” Junko turned back to her watch. “You would jump at the chance to get some petty revenge. I bet you are drooling at the chance to watch me get thrown overboard with an anchor around my neck.”

“Hmmm.” Gekko pulled back and resisted the urge to follow up with a snarky comment. “Well, think about it. When things turn sour with that scoundrel Motonubu, my offer will still be there. I’ll even stop myself from saying I told you so when it all goes south.”

“What a generous negotiation.” Junko dismissively tossed one of her hands into the air. “Tell you what, if you want to go translate that thing right now, I’ll bite. Motonubu is just going to twist your arm until you do it anyway, we might as well get it over with now before he stinks up the place again.”

Gekko allowed himself the tiniest of knowing smiles. It was a start. “I’m game. I suppose I’ll need to lead the way then, Miss Bodyguard.”

After tidying up the ‘campsite’ a bit to hide any traces of their stay, Junko and Gekko began to wander the graveyard again. At first it felt a bit aimless as Gekko silently moved between the misshapen spires and headstones, occasionally running his hands across them and other times scrutinizing them from a multitude of different angles. Junko at first assumed the kid was just stalling for time and made her impatience known. “Looks like you’re just frittering away the morning, kid. Trying to look for an escape route?”

Gekko’s face scrunched up in frustration as he looked away from the rock he was presently examining to glare at Junko. “You think you could do better? These ruins are centuries old, it’s like trying to read someone’s handwriting they left on soggy toilet paper a hundred years after the fact.”

“I don’t see any writing at all!” Junko huffed, placing a boot on a loose tombstone nearby and knocking it over. “Explain what you’re wasting so much time on or we’ll just sit around and wait for Motonubu. I don’t like being exposed in the open like this.”

“It’s- ugh.” Gekko groaned and wiped some sweat off his brow with the back of his good hand. “Like I told you, [b]Bossa[/i] isn’t just a language. I mean, it is, but it’s not like you can consult a dictionary or anything. It’s very contextual.”

“Uh-huh. So you can piss away hours looking at a rock and have nothing to show for it, eh?”

“Nothing to- look!” Gekko slapped his current target of inspection, a rather mundane chunk of boulder vaguely carved into a pyramid shape. “The angles on each side don’t match, even given the amount of erosion present on the stone, and there’s two layers of chalk surrounding the...are you listening to me?!” Junko was staring off towards the most likely avenues where Gekko could run and only glanced back when the boy’s tone suggested he was being serious. “It’s an address, okay! These are all addresses!”

Junko barely registered his words and resumed watching the horizon. “Addresses, huh. So the Jinchi peoples sent their dead folks mail? How thoughtful.”

“They’re counting down.” Gekko took his eyes off the stone and scanned his surroundings, the multitude of gravestones providing little obvious insight where to head next. “Some of these, the ones that aren’t that damaged, have numbers, and the number is getting smaller the closer we get.”

“Closer to what?”

“I don’t know.” Gekko sighed. “The first gravestone, I guess? It might not even be on the surface, it might be buried. But it’s the only thing I can think of to follow.”

“And,” Junko turned now to look in the same direction as Gekko. “Your Annitou buddies never told you about this place? Shouldn’t you have a bit more information?”

“I’m the only Bossa speaker on the island, apart from General Gou.” Gekko stared at Junko now, trying to gauge if the swordswoman took him seriously or just played along out of boredom. “The only other speaker was discharged back to the mainland for...we were told ‘fatigue’.” He blinked a few times as the morning’s light had gotten stronger, then returned his attention to the gravesites. “But it was something here that caused that. Even if Annitou destroyed those stones we can still find the site where they stood. There’s bound to be a clue left behind.”

Renewing his examination Gekko arrived at his conclusion. “I need to see the whole graveyard. Where’s the highest point?”

Junko shot the boy an annoyed look, diverting her eternal watch for just a moment to express her discontent. “I know you usually just say whatever you want and ignore me, but if you think I’m going to sit here while you go and make yourself easy to spot-”

“It won’t take long.” Gekko quickly identified one of the tallest grave markers nearby and already began to trot towards it. “I’ll be up and down in a second.”

Giving a short exhale of disapproval Junko at once began following, abandoning her own post to try and prevent some horrible accident from happening. “You have one arm, kid! What are you going to do, climb with your teeth?”

“Just give me a boost and I’ll manage. I’m a cadet so I’ve received Agent training, you know. I can hold my own.”

“You’d be a pile of meat at the bottom of a ravine if I hadn’t bailed you out of that dumb stunt you pulled a few days ago!”

“I would have been fine. What are you, my mother? I can do this.” Gekko huffed, having reached the base of the large stone spire. He looked up and took the whole rock in at once. The entire carving stood nearly as large as a tree and was by far the tallest point in the graveyard. Only the jungle perimeter, with its own massive trees, could have provided a better vantage point.

One small problem to overcome was actually trying to scale the huge structure. It wasn’t as though the huge rock had a staircase that could easily be ascended. “See, look, those indentations running along the sides- I can stick my hands in here!”

“Your hand. Your one good hand.”

“Hand and feet.” Already the boy was kicking off his sandals, which at this point in the journey were completely filthy. “I used to climb trees all the time growing up. This will only take a second.”

Finally Junko asserted some authority and put an uncompromising hand on the boy’s shoulder. The pressure alone from the weight felt more oppressive than anything else she could have said at that point and Gekko naturally recoiled from it. “If you try jumping off that in another dumb suicide attempt, I’m warning you now. I’ll have no problem catching you and after I do I’ll bloody murder you for trying to pull the same garbage twice.”

That response pulled a bit of surprise from Gekko. He looked up at the towering woman with just a bit of trepidation. “You’re going to let me do it?”

The look on Junko’s face was nothing short of pure distrust, but at least her tone indicated some level of cooperation. “You’re going to get about two feet up the rock, then you’ll fall like the idiot you are. And then I’ll bail your ass out like I’ve been doing and we’ll go back to sitting around and waiting for Motonubu like I suggested. If it wasn’t for the fact you had breakfast this morning you wouldn’t have the energy to be attempting nonsense like this.”

“That’s your fault then, as it usually is.”

There was no response from Junko, except to roughly release the kid’s shoulder. Gekko stumbled a bit to regain his footing, then put his hand up against the rock again to steady himself. Junko's hard face betrayed little emotion, but it seemed just then, right there, the tiniest crack in her facade was relenting. She was going to let him climb.