Mend You with Gold
BES Mizu x reader (mostly angst)
~
Okay this has been sitting in my notes for literal months and I can't decide on a suitable ending for this so I'm just posting it lmao pls be nice
Spoilers for Blue Eye Samurai past episode 5
~
Try as she might, Mizu had to admit that this was something she could not do by herself. The sutra script had been written across every inch of her body she could reach, and yet there were still expanses of skin her brush could not steadily paint. Places she could not see with her own two eyes.
She sighed, staring into the smoldering fire in front of her. Briefly, she considered going to find Ringo, to request his help, but she wondered if he would even speak to her, as angry as he had been. It was better this way, she tried to convince herself. Maybe with Swordfather he could live a life of peace. Maybe she could save just one person, by letting him go.
"Need some help?"
Mizu startled, hand instinctively reaching for her hip, where her sword would have been. But it had been shattered, and her layers stripped away, revealing her raw and equally broken figure.
"It's just me," you called out softly, emerging from the treeline. Mizu watched silently as you approached, wrapped up in an old kimono one of the kinder townswomen had gifted to you. "Forgive me if I'm intruding.. I thought you might want some help."
Mizu studied you carefully, a lingering feeling of guilt wrapping itself around her chest and bearing down tightly, making it hard to breathe. This was the first time the two of you had spoken in days, ever since Ringo pulled you two plus Taigen out of the half-frozen ocean near Fowler's stronghold. What a nightmare that had been. The closer they got to the top of the castle, the more frenzied Mizu became, blatantly disregarding hers and your safety in favor of her hunt. You had done your best to watch her back and keep her as safe as possible, but one person can only do so much, take so much pain at another's expense. At some point, enough had to be enough.
You hadn't spoken to her ever since. In the back of Mizu's mind was the fear that you would never speak to her again. You had been a part of her journey for so long, she almost couldn't imagine such a thing. She didn't think she could bear it if it became a reality.
"You know the Heart Sutra?" Mizu asked finally, eyes searching yours with an air of defeat. You weren't quite sure what she was looking for, if anything. You weren't even sure if she was looking at you.
The corner of your lips quirked in a weak smile as you approached, kneeling down next to her. "It's been a while. Remind me," you requested, reaching for the brush in her hand.
To your surprise, Mizu didn't relinquish her grip on the brush, even as your fingers clasped gently around hers. "The body is emptiness, and emptiness body," she spoke quietly, her words weighted and meaningful in a way that was unfamiliar to you.
"All things are only empty. Nothing is born, nothing broken..." you finished for her. "... Nothing broken," you repeated, staring into her eyes like they might finally lay bare all the secrets she had kept hidden from you. All of her doubts, her fears, her insecurities, you wanted to see all of it. You wanted to accept her, tell her that you never thought of her as monstrous, or demonic, or impure. You wanted to know her, you wanted her to know you.
The fire kept the early spring chill away from Mizu's exposed skin as she sat still, taking in every twitch and change in your expression, trying to work out the emotions swirling in your eyes. A beat of silence passed before she finally loosened her grip on the brush, allowing you to grasp it in your hand and dip it back into the ink. She turned her face towards the fire, exposing her back to you in a silent bid to begin writing. A soft shudder ran up her spine at the feel of the ink; gentle strokes writing out words she could see in her mind's eye, purifying her body and spirit.
"I've never known you to study the Sutras," you commented quietly, bracing your free hand against Mizu's shoulder to keep her steady.
"It's.. been a while," she echoed you with a sigh, turning her head to try and catch your gaze from the corner of her eye. It was a bit jarring to you, you realized, to see her bare before you. Despite knowing her identity and the reasons for why she expressed herself the way she did, it still felt almost invasive to look at her the way she was now. Like you were seeing something you shouldn't have the privelege of seeing.
You realized she was staring at you from the corner of her eye, lowering your gaze back down to the script you were writing. Mizu's eyes darkened when she realized you were still avoiding her. "Why did you want to help me?" She asked hoarsely, looking back towards the fire with a saddened expression.
You sighed, finishing the last of the scripture before leaning forward to rest your chin on her shoulder. Your fingers idly traced the dried ink, skirting down her arms and back up in a soothing gesture. For whom, you weren't certain. "I... wanted to help," you murmured finally. "Nothing new there, I suppose. But I really did try."
"Try what?" Mizu hummed, leaning her head against yours.
"To stay away," you replied quietly, oblivious to the way her eyes widened at your words. "To give you peace. Silence. Everything you had originally asked of me, when we first met. Ever since we came back to Kohama.. I thought you might need silence to figure your thoughts out. I thought it would help if I left you alone."
You moved so your forehead was resting against the crook of her neck now, hiding your face from her view. "But... now I can't help but wonder if I stayed too far away. Your wounds mended, but you didn't heal. If anything, you looked more broken than I've ever seen you. I thought.. if I weren't there to hold you together.." Your thumb swiped at the inked skin of her shoulder. "... Maybe I could be there to help put the pieces back in place. Glue you back together and embroider you with gold... and help you see that you aren't as monstrous as people made you think you are."
"Gold would be wasted on me," Mizu whispered weakly, a soft tremor in her voice.
"Not to me," you mumbled in return. Your fingers found a new scar on her shoulder and began tracing it, almost apologetically. "Never to me. Gold is wasted if it adorns anything but you, because it does not tell you of your strength. Your hardships. It doesn't tell you of what you lived through and remind you that you survived."