Can we please have historical lesbians part 8 (or 9 i forgot how many parts there are already x<) your fics are beautiful btw ♥️♥️♥️
->pt1 ->pt2 ->pt3 ->pt4 ->pt5 ->pt6 ->pt7 ->pt8
The next morning was filled with a consuming warmth, the mixing heat sourced from two bodies practically fused your skins together, not that either party minded. If anything this still wasn’t close enough. Mizu was on her stomach, draped over you heavily, still sleeping peacefully. She was snoring slightly and you could feel a small pool of drool slowly collecting on your collar. Trying to ignore the shiver as it ran down your shoulder by admiring her naked comfort, hands threaded through the long strands of hair that covered most of her back, the rest of her exposed body was cut off with a blanket.
“You should have your hair like this more often, let that scalp breathe” Your voice cushioned her slumber, in return she offered a deep humming sound that lacked the effort to develop into words. Her hair had always been left uncut, even when you still believed her disguise as a man you thought it long, Mizu hadn’t explained why even now. You braided the dark locks idly, waiting for consciousness to wash over her. Actually, thinking back on it Mizu hadn’t really bothered taking much care in their appearance until after you’d gotten closer. You weren’t convinced at first ‘he’ even knew how. She used to go weeks without washing her clothes, then after making camp she would just disappear for about an hour, which you now know was to bathe and conceal her chest from you.
In one of the many instances Mizu had faced death, your wife was simply not strong enough to take care of herself, yet not exhausted enough to passively accept your help. Hence bathing together. After she was healed the habit simply stuck, though both of you had tried to convince the other it was purely out of necessity. Mizu could watch out for anyone who wandered too close and for you it felt like one of the only ways her efforts in providing for you could be repaid. In retrospect you knew it was a lie, to Mizu and yourself.
“I could get Ringo to find us something?” Mizu shot that thought down immediately, slipping slender hands around your sides to anchor herself to you, rasping, “don’t move.” You gasped, back arching to avoid her frozen paws, “Mizu!” The woman on top of you pouts, huffing against you softly. “Minutes, five more. Just us.”
“Just us?” Asking felt slightly redundant, with Mizu being barely awake. “I’ve missed this.” Laughing, you raised a brow, “We do this almost every night.” Not even ‘Almost’, despite not having confessed until last night this position wasn’t unfamiliar to you, the only difference was how many clothes were involved. Speaking of which, you hadn’t realised how smooth her legs were until now, though every so often you felt the uneven stretch of a scar. She appreciated your touch, closeness, in whatever form you were willing to give. “The other people.”
“You want me all to yourself? Greedy.”
You felt her smile against you.
Your wife was never one for people, possibly being one of the most paranoid individuals you’d even encountered. To be fair most men had never given you much reason to look forward to their company either, in a way this piece of her personality has rubbed off on you. But, you liked Ringo. He was a good man, a friend. He brought you food. That was an ally worth keeping close. Mizu understood this, for now she’d at least held back her efforts in abandoning the guy, accepting that he had some use.
Eyes flickered open, Mizu reached for her glasses and held herself over you, waiting like a deer in the fields for something. You too waited, admiring the shape of her arms while they blocked you in from moving, blanket forming a tent of damp air between you. Then there it was. A scream. Shrill and piercing through the paper screens. Gazes meet and minds silently question for a moment, before you can stand a hand presses you back down.
“Stay. I’ll look, just go find Ringo.”
She leaves without another word, almost forgetting to dress herself on the way out, sword hanging by her side as she fiddles with the obi. You follow soon after. The lanterns still lit the halls, though the ceiling felt lower than before, like the walls were hugging you close for protection. From what, you still weren’t sure. A rowdy customer seemed most likely, though you would hate to consider the many more sinister possibilities a man could conjure to disturb your morning.
Shoes abandoned, you are agile in padding room to room. The customers have cleared out, followed closely by the workers. Ringo was nowhere to be found. Ideally, he would have been in the room next door, only that too was empty. Your ears buzzed to fill the gaps of eerie silence, every shadow built themselves into a fresh figure to be spooked by, and yet none you recognised.
The woman gasped, outraged but noticeably scared beneath her stern command. Your arm had brushed Akemi’s back, a result of reversing into one another from opposite ends of a particularly poorly lit corridor. Hissing out a shush, you drag the princess into a small closet, knees knocking against each other. A hand pushes you back, facing some resistance from the wall behind you.
She was alone too, though you struggled to understand why she was still here. Yes, Taigen would be searching for Mizu. But, if she had any real faith in his devotion she could simply go back home to a cushy palace and wait. There was hardly any need for her to infiltrate this brothel. If she wanted, the girl could just command Mizu to stay put, or command others to restrain Mizu. Perhaps continuing to travel up the chain of command, until her own father is forced to hold down your wife.
Although, a father is a good reason to run away. That could explain why Akemi is so desperate to find a husband in Taigen, even if he is rather insignificant as a person. The girl’s father could make some good coin from marrying her off like that, not with Taigen but a prettied Lord with a flashy title. You understood. Mizu was right, Women in this world don’t have a single good option, but Akemi was no exception.
She had the illusions of choices, like everyone else.
You were about to give her some.
A warm glow washes over the bottom gap in the door, revealing the floors, followed by weighted steps. The door opens and a clawed fist takes hold of an arm, like it was grabbing a fish from a very small barrel. You had your own blade ready, pushing up and moving behind. His hands moved to his neck as he fell forward. You push to aid in his slow descent. Akemi is freed before she can scream. You silently thanked her for trying. Puffing heavily from her nose as she glared down at her hands, then felt around her face for the wetness now splattered over her face. You use a sleeve and carefully wipe the stubborn blood away, catching a few tears and half a face of make up with it.
Taking her hand, you shut the door and move, painfully unfamiliar with the layout of the building. She stumbles a few times but learns to pick up her feet, following upstairs until you take a hard left to the entrance of the main balcony. From above you could see at least fifty men, all armed like the one before, matching uniform and all.
They must be here on behalf of Boss Hamata.
“How many were inside?” You ask, eyes unable to land on a familiar face in the streets. The others must still be inside, or far away from here. “I’m not sure. A dozen, maybe more.” Akemi was more determined to live than before, that was nice.
“Do you have that knife?”
Turning to the princess, her choices are offered simply. “You can either stay here and die, or come with me, or go down to the basement and die later.” Beginning your descent of the stairs she trails behind closely, hair beginning to shift loose and out of place. She didn’t seem to mind, though kept sweeping it back only for it to return to its previous place a moment later.
“Are we going to find Mizu?”
“No, the last thing he needs is to worry about hitting us while fighting, it’s better we stay separated for now and lighten the load.”
You stop unnoticed, allowing two claws to pass by. Akemi holds her breath, sighing out another question once she’d deemed it safe, “what about Ringo?” You had nothing to offer her in terms of information, only hopes you’d kept close to chest until now. “Alive, but I couldn’t find him.” He was smart when he needed to be, and the knife Mizu gave him should buy time, long enough to leave this place together. Added bonus if your wife is intact at the end of all this and agrees to let you keep the princess. If she's tired it won’t take long. Only if Akemi wanted to stay of course, the downgrade from palace to brothel to technically homeless was not a glamorous one. You would understand if she decided to stay.
“He’s down in the cellar with the women.”
“We can meet him on the way to the front”
“It’s dangerous, but we’re safer like this. We need to grab a lot of hanazake.”
Akemi begins to guide you, managing to avoid the majority of patrolling armoured men with ease, having only encountered another two. From across the building you heard unsteady thuds, the floor was humming every time a new body dropped. Peeking around a corner, you can make out a fallen pile of soldiers, leaking onto the tatami mats. The closer you got to the main entrance, the more lanterns had been extinguished. In the reception area under the desk are two smaller barrels, taking one each as you begin to make your way upstairs.
In the darkness you almost trip over a leg.
She was not fully unconscious yet, bleeding and still breathing. With a nudge, the swordsman was lucid enough to say, “you’re alive.” Kneeling, you asked in return, only half kidding, “aren’t you?” Mizu doesn’t answer, eyelids feeling heavier than before. “Akemi and I are going to take these back upstairs and help with the men still outside…Mizu?” She could probably hear the uncertainty in your voice, now using her blade to hoist herself off the floor.
Crouching low on the balcony and using your knife, you place the barrel on the floor and carve out a long slit in the side, going with the grain of the wood. Akemi copies, though ends up borrowing yours as hers couldn't slice deep enough. Then, standing without concern for being noticed, you throw. The alcohol gushes out, its container rotating slowly to coat as many men as possible, inevitably breaking after making contact with one of their faces. Securing at least one broken nose after this attack. The princess hands you one of the lanterns, taking off the decorative paper shade. The angry claws all begin to swarm, just as you drop the flame.
Hanazake is a highly concentrated variation of awamori, its high alcohol content means that the liquid is extremely flammable. The same goes for those covered in it. (Vodka typically only has a forty percent ABV, however hanazake has closer to sixty percent ABV). Sweels are heard from below as you watch the alight soldiers wildly roll around in the dirt, attempting to extinguish themselves. But you notice, the others do little to aid their colleges. They step back and, like yourselves, watch on. Something about the smell of burnt hair allows it to overpower everything else polluting the air, though you still have ears to listen to these men perish so terribly. Skin blistering and nerves dying, as they slowly expire into the ground.
Those who attempt to climb fall, Akemi stabs at their fingers once they curl around the banister, squashing those underneath like beetles. Only their armour isn’t so tough. What you didn’t realise was that Mizu was already outside, she was just trapped under a door, now with at least three limp men on top of it. She is dragged out, the hand that does so is soon severed. You are given a spectacle. Your wife killed at least twenty and dragged the boss out from under its rock, to serve him on a platter for Madame Kaji.
As soon as you stepped outside the doorway that once had a door attached to it you were ambushed into a very tight embrace, ears filled with words and much too many at once. “Master said to come find you, actually that was before, he is sleeping now. On the floor. I tried to get him up but Master didn’t like that. Not one bit. He’s hurt. Are you hurt?” Ringo waved his wrist over to Akemi over your shoulder, who waved back politely. You, however, were restrained with no chance of escape. Of course you could ask, the boy would let you go in an instant, but the security after this whole ordeal felt very rewarding. Allowing your brain to climb out of the dark place it had fallen into.
Mizu was exactly how you’d imagined.
On the floor, bleeding, caked in filth.
“Mizu?” Two blue eyes stared back at you. “I’m done with today.” Her throat sounded sore. You joined her on the snow covered steps, brushing some of the crusting muck from her cheeks, “tomorrow is still quite far away.” You noticed the glossy look she was giving you now, tears pooling in her lashes. She wasn’t sad, just tired for now, and sore. Exhausted. “I wanted five minutes, why can’t we have that?” It wasn’t a real question, not one for you or one you knew the answer to. “We will, another time.”
“Did you start a fire on top of me?”
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