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⚔︎. A SHARED JOURNEY [ii]

★ summary. you and mizu search for a boat. ringo tags along, much to mizu's chagrin. [blue eye samurai ep. ii]

☆ contents. mizu x fem!reader, blue eye samurai spoilers, violence, mention of suicide, themes of racism + misogyny, slight slow burn, slight enemies to lovers // wc. 6.2k

☆ chapters. [i] [ii] [iii] [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [viii]

★ notes. woah who hasn't updated in two years? this guy!! ha ha i'm so sorry. anyways you should read it on ao3 [link in masterpost] because i can format the breaks better there

CHAPTER II : DON'T ROCK THE BOAT

“Why do we have to keep running?” you panted, trying to keep up with Mizu. “Are you trying to ditch me too?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve tried.”

“You’ve what—?”

A sharp cry echoed distantly up the hill as birds cleared out from their branches. Mizu reacted before you, snatching your wrist and sprinting down the hill, kicking up snow with each step she took.

“Uh, you do realize that we’re leaving footprints!” you yelped, skipping across the freezing ground and over rocks to keep up with her fancy footwork.

She whipped her head towards the hill, then down at the ruined snow beneath, whispering curses under her breath as she took in the obvious trail she'd carelessly left behind. You merely sighed and tried to catch your breath, reaching your arm back to grab at the nearest tree. You let loose a shriek as your hand sank into something soft, rather than the rough bark you were expecting.

Before you could register what was happening, you were flung behind Mizu, teeth bared and with wild eyes as she unsheathed her sword. You hit the soft snowy ground, looking up to see Mizu standing between you and Ringo, the kindly man who’d been following you since Kyoto.

“You move quietly for someone so large,” Mizu said, studying the harmless stalker before her.

Ringo smiled innocently. “I’m naturally stealthy!”

“Mizu,” you groaned, feeling the soaked, uncomfortable fabric of your kimono touching your previously dry skin. “Next time, can you give me a warning before you knock me down? Even a grunt would be fine.”

Mizu clicked her sword base into its case, muttering an apology as she grasped your forearm and pulled you back onto your feet. You did your best to brush any remaining snow off your clothes, shuddering at the goosebumps and freezing droplets that clung to your legs. Mizu trekked forward, keeping her head down and pushing past the man who didn’t seem to mind her obvious distaste or her aloof bluntness.

“Well, maybe not naturally,” he continued, following you and Mizu, “my father would beat me if I ever made noise in the noodle shop. I learn to be quiet, like a ninja.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near us,” Mizu hissed, stepping past him with ease. “Stay away.”

“Stay away, Ringo,” he corrected.

“I don’t care.”

“I think what Mizu's trying to say, Ringo,” you interrupted, giving him a polite smile, “is that the path of a samurai can be quite dangerous. It’s not a clean or easy path, you have to be strong in both body and mind.”

“Not to worry! I am strong—and useful!” Ringo snagged an umbrella from his back, popping it open to cover Mizu and young. “See?”

Mizu stepped through a split tree, looking rather unimpressed. Her aggravation only grew with Ringo’s constant barrage of questions regarding her bloodline.

“I heard white people's skin burns off in the sun.”

“Is it true blue eyes can see in the dark?”

“Oh, and is it true white people drink milk from their animals?”

Mizu only growled in response, giving you a sharp look and rapidly changing paths—away from Ringo, who once again easily caught up to the both of you.

“I know why you think you don't want me around, but you can trust me!” Ringo insisted, pouting like a sad puppy. “I'd never tell your secret. Not ever. Not if someone bit off my skin bite by bite or even if they made me eat eggplant!”

He smiled, skipping up to Mizu, “I'd never ever, ever, ever tell anyone that you're a gi—”

A sickening, effortless swing cut between the two, slicing a growing tree across the side, the upper half falling helplessly to the ground. Mizu’s feats of strength weren’t new to you, the times you’d seen her training made you grateful she wasn’t your enemy, but you’d never seen anything on this level. All you could do was stand off to the side and watch Mizu’s rage flare up at Ringo’s unending persistence.

“If I see you again, I will kill you, and never think of you again,” she hissed, voice low and callous.

She didn’t wait for a response, his fearful expression clearly enough for her. Sheathing her sword, Mizu walked down into the sparse forest she’d been forced to walk into on account of Ringo’s meddling. You frowned upon seeing his face, hurt and shock painted into his plump cheeks and bright eyes, changing from a sad puppy to a kicked-and-pummeled puppy.

“I’m sorry, Ringo,” you said as softly as possible, “but Mizu’s… not keen on making friends. At least not now. Maybe you can find a different master? One who's more suited to the art of teaching.”

The corners of his mouth twinged upwards, giving you a glimpse of the bubbly young man who served you soba a couple days ago. You returned the smile before running after Mizu, attempting to catch up to the spindly young samurai with legs longer than a chicken—she really hated when you first told her that.

“Wait up, Mizu!” you whined, stepping through deeper and deeper patches of snow. “If you lose me now, who will sew up your wounds?”

“I sewed my wounds before you.”

“Who will make you tea when you think you’re getting sick?”

“I know how to make tea.”

“Who will make us warm, wonderful noodles on cold, winter mornings?”

“No one; we’ve never made noodles.”

“Exactly!” you yelled, hiking your kimono up to avoid wetting it further. “And whose fault is that?”

She grumbled, “I will not let a stumbling fool interfere on my journey,”

“Because he knows your secret? I know it too! He could be nice to have around, Mizu,” you huff, finally catching up to her.

“You—are an exception,” she muttered, ducking under a tree branch. “By keeping it from you, there is a chance I could bleed out.”

“I only know because you were bleeding out,” you snorted. “You would have kept it to the grave if you could have.”

She didn’t say anything more, continuing the travel in silence as you passed by steep mountain ranges, ridges decorated with slopes of snow and layered trees becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

You were so damn sick of all this snow. Of walking in it, feeling it scorch your already freezing skin, of just looking at it. But it would be spring—sooner or later, at least. Maybe another month or two of seeing all this snow, but you could manage that.

“Hey,” Mizu said, interrupting your thoughts. “You've been helpful, and I appreciate that.”

She didn’t turn around, only continuing her path forward. It made you feel suspicious, like she was expecting you to repay her with a compliment of your own, or maybe make her some soba noodles yourself. Your skill set certainly didn’t reach into that area.

“What’s the catch, Mizu?” you asked, not even trying to hide the obvious suspicion in your voice.

“No catch,” she replied. “I know it’s been tough walking in the cold, so when we get to the next city, we can look for a horse to buy.”

“Really?” You shouted with glee, almost stumbling over yourself in the snow.

“Yes.” Mizu cleared her throat. “We’ll be splitting the cost, though, since you’re the one that wanted it.”

“Fine by me!” you whistled, skipping happily behind Mizu as the towering mountains slowly disappeared behind you, only soft footprints leaving any mark of your presence.

“Come forward. Get in line! No one gets through without a travel pass.”

You rolled your eyes at the guard’s commands, shifting your feet closely behind Mizu. It was your job to keep your head down and cling to Mizu, your oh-so strong and masculine protector. It wasn’t like the guards would ask for a passionate display of affection, right?

“Next. Come on, come on. Let's see your pass.” The line shuffled forward, inching closer to the gate as the next person presented their pass. Every gate was identical to the last, with every soldier being poor enough to accept whatever money Mizu was willing to fork over. It wasn’t just, but it was how people made their living, and how you and Mizu had made it this far.

A loud scuffle near the gate broke through your thoughts, and you peeked over Mizu’s shoulder to see what had happened.

“What is this? A bribe? Are you trying to bribe me?” The guard scoffed. “Arrest and flog him!”

“No, no! Please!” the man cried out as he was dragged away.

You flinched and looked up at Mizu to see her reaction. This was a deviation—not a part of the plan. But Mizu was a planner, right? She could adapt like she always did! Maybe she’d pay a higher sum, leave the line and climb the gate under the cloak of night. A quick glance at Mizu’s side revealed her plan to you.

She was reaching for her sword.

You were so fucked.

“Hey, where's your pass?”

It would only take a single slash from Mizu to end things, so you had to be ready to run after her at a moment’s notice. Mizu was at least three times as fast as you, even while carrying her sword. You could always pretend to not be associated with her, but your chances of survival were much better if—

“Right here!” a hearty voice rang out from the treeline. Simultaneously, you and Mizu turned around to see Ringo stumbling through the line to join the two of you, holding a travel pass between his stumps.

“Travel pass for three. Just me and my apprentices traveling together, like always,” Ringo laughed, mostly to himself, it seemed. “Heading to my buckwheat dealer. Fresh shipment from Horokanai. The best!” Ringo knocked you and Mizu on the back of your heads. “Come on, you two,” he scolded. “I humbly apologize for my apprentices, they’re a bit dim.”

You and Mizu shared a disturbed look.

The guard sighed at the pass, waving his hand before calling out for the next person to approach.

“Useful! I told you,” Ringo insisted as he trailed behind the two of you.

One look at Mizu and you could see the formerly stone-cold resolve on her face crumbling with each word from Ringo. You couldn’t blame her one bit—Ringo’s excitement for life itself would wear even the hardest of samurai down to a pebble. But you were also aware of the dangers that Mizu’s journey carried, and how hard it was to convince her to let you join.

“You will not find what you seek at my side,” she sighed. “I am owed my revenge, and I will have it at any cost. It is not a path of honor nor excitement.”

“A path of pain, dear Ringo.”

“I love revenge!” You bit back a giggle, knowing it was best not to make Mizu any more upset.

“It is a demon's path littered with death,” Mizu spat, spitting venom.

“I'm not afraid.” Ringo said with confidence. “I can train, and I can help you. I'm already the greatest in the world at one thing. What's one more?”

You didn’t know whether to commend him for his bravery, or scold him for his naivety.

“Noodles is not war.”

“My whole life has been a battle.”

Mizu turned to look at you, as if asking for your approval on the matter.

“It’s a lot of walking, Ringo,” you sputtered out, trying to back Mizu up to the best of your ability. “You probably won’t be fighting or anything like that, mostly watching and—”

Ringo practically jumped at your words. “All good craftsmen must watch before they create!” he shouted. “I’ve had plenty of practice in the art of watching.”

This time, it was your turn to look at Mizu. She seemed to be deep in thought, judging by the cute way she was pinching the bridge of her nose. With a heavy sigh and a slump of her shoulders, she turned around and resumed marching along the path.

“I'm an apprentice!” Ringo cheered, scampering to follow you and Mizu. “So, where do we go to get your revenge?”

“A boat,” you sang, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped beside Mizu.

“Ooh! A revenge boat!”

You giggled, trying to hide your face from Mizu. Not only would it be nice to have someone to chat with—at least someone who didn’t have the conversational skills of a beached fish—but you’d also been dreaming of Ringo’s soba since the day you had the pleasure of tasting it. To get meals of that level, every day? You might just get to see a sliver of heaven on your hellish journey.

A small part within you hoped that Mizu felt the same.

When Mizu told you the path to revenge was treacherous, you originally thought she meant that people would be around every corner to stop you, or that every friend was a potential foe.

What you did not expect, however, was to be creeping around a very, very tiny cliffside, during a cold and harsh winter, all while you were slowly suffocated by the falling snow. For someone who paraded around with a ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude, you wished she had more common sense to just find a damn paved road.

“Watch your step,” she muttered ahead.

“Wow, thanks,” you barked back, hugging the side of the mountain like your life depended on it. “I’ll remember to keep that in mind when I slip on the snow and go plummeting to my death!”

You exhaled deeply, trying to focus on the traumatic story that Ringo had been telling for the last eight minutes.

“And boom, there was blood everywhere! And that's why I vowed never to eat eggplant again,” Ringo sighed. “So, tell me about this boat. I've never been on a boat. I wonder if I'll get seasick. I get nauseous in the bath if I slosh too much.”

A sharp yelp and the sound of stones scattering echoed across the mountain wall, and before you had a chance to see what happened, Mizu had already spun around. Her eyes were wide with alert as her hand twitched near her hilt.

Once you turned to face behind you, you witnessed a startled Ringo clinging to the stone wall for dear life. His muscles seemed to relax quickly, and he turned to look at you and Mizu.

“Naturally stealthy,” Ringo smiled, attempting to play off his near-death experience.

Mizu straightened herself. “You don't have to be here, Ringo.”

“And miss you killing Heiji Shindo?” Ringo said with excitement, beaming ear to ear.

“It certainly isn’t as romantic as it sounds, Ringo,” You rubbed the base of your inro. “There’s lots of blood, followed by cleaning, then bandaging, which is then followed by more blood, followed by—”

“I’m not after him,” Mizu interrupted, “but the white man he protects.”

Half-frozen snow crunched beneath your feet as the distance between you and Mizu felt even vaster and colder than before. Mizu rarely felt the need to explain anything to you—or anyone, for that matter—preferring to keep her goals close to her chest. Although you were privy to more information than any person Mizu had ever met with, granted that you were in a position to poke and prod her to learn such things. But her words carried a sense of fanaticism towards her ultimate goal—a reckless, foolish pursuit. And all you could do was watch as she hurtled herself towards a death that she welcomed far too warmly, for as cold as she was.

“He's on an island in the west,” Mizu continued. “By sea, I can be there before dawn and kill him by sunrise.”

“Revenge,” Ringo whispered under his breath.

“Fatalism,” You sighed, jogging over to Mizu as the cliffside shifted from its sharp edge into more stable ground, allowing you to walk directly beside her.

The harsh, gray open space revealed a rather shoddy wooden gate—though calling it a gate was quite a generous title. Even someone Ringo’s size could probably slip through the gaps in its walls. More importantly, however, was the fact that it was completely unguarded.

The three of you took wary glances at the empty watch tower as tiny specks of snow rained down from above, coating the scenery in ever-growing sheets. You may have found it beautiful, if not for the paranoia currently eating away at your chest. The urge to cling to Mizu’s back and use her as a human shield grew with each step forward you took.

But Mizu was clearly unaffected by the unnerving atmosphere, and even Ringo seemed to not care about the lack of human life in what was clearly and obviously a populated town.

“Where is everybody?” Ringo called out, glancing down empty alleys and silent buildings. “Hello?”

Your eye twitched as you bit back a cruel comment, knowing that your words would be too sharp for someone as soft as Ringo to take. You’d wanted to give Ringo the benefit of the doubt, but you were starting to understand why Mizu was so apprehensive about letting him come along. You might have the wisdom to see this as a perilous journey, but Ringo was—

You nearly collided with Mizu’s back, the tip of your nose only centimeters away from the faded navy fabric. The back of her heel was raised slightly, and the point of your foot had slid beneath it. Her hands had reached for her sword before you could even blink, and you were about to scamper backwards, if not for the sight before you.

A man—a drunk, and rather scrawny one at that—stumbled across the streets, staring past all of you and instead at whatever his drunk mind found more interesting.

Ringo was the first to try and speak with the drunkard. “Where did your town go?”

Without another word, the man ran, or more accurately, danced, through an alley. The three of you hurriedly followed as you found yourselves standing in a bustling snowy street, lined with vendors and strings of glowing lanterns.

“We seriously didn’t hear all of this?” You glanced dumbfound at all the festivities before you. “I think you have something you need to work on, Mizu.”

“You didn’t hear it either,” she shot back. “I’ll make sure to say my goodbyes quickly, given that you won’t hear the stampede of horses about to crush us.”

“You’ve seen a stampede of horses?” Ringo looked ecstatic.

“No, Mizu’s just being an ass.” You threw a look towards the swordswoman.

Mizu said nothing in reply, instead choosing to scan the bustling town. You followed her eyes and found what she was staring at—the harbor. You were shocked at how the water remained unfrozen in these freezing conditions. Given the blizzards you and Mizu barely pulled through the last couple of weeks, you figured the waves would be frosted over.

With short strides, Mizu began her march towards the boat. Ringo tried to follow, but was easily distracted by the ongoing festivities, dazzling him with music and dancing. You thought Mizu was being quite generous with Ringo. In the past, she would have just kept walking, leaving you behind and in the dust.

“We're not here for fun,” she grumbled, not bothering to look at Ringo. “We're here for a boat.”

The two of you stood behind Mizu as she propositioned the boat owners—two drunk fishermen who were still sipping on their bottles.

“Sure,” the presumed owner smiled, “I can take you there.”

Mizu sighed, reaching a foot down to the boat. “Thank you.”

The men lurched forward, sticking their hands out and ushering Mizu backwards. You raised an eyebrow, then looked at the other nearby boats. All were tied up, with countless men lounging within. Drinking, of course.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Not now,” the owner insisted. “Tomorrow.”

His companion hiccuped. “Not too early either.”

Mizu scowled, and Ringo shuffled awkwardly. You tucked your hands behind your back, doing your best to look polite.

“Maybe we can try later, Mizu?” you offered.

“We must leave now.”

“During the Hadaka Matsuri?” the man laughed. “Well, then you'll have to swim. Everyone's closed today!”

This time, it was Mizu who glanced around. Not just at the dock and boats, but all around. Every man, woman, and child seemed to be enjoying themself amidst the festival. You knew Mizu wasn’t the type to frolic, especially when there was fun to be had. No, Mizu was Miss All-Serious, and in the world of Miss All Serious, there was no time for—

“Fine. Tomorrow then.”

“Huh?” You blinked. “Really Mizu? We can stay? Like, the whole day?”

Ringo looked happier than you, and the two of you practically danced behind Mizu’s back as she continued conversing with the boat owner.

“We will see you in the morning,” Mizu said curtly, turning away from the sailors.

“Not too early!” the owner called out, laughing with his companion.

You spun with a pep in your step, giggling as the snow fell on you. It was only once you collided directly with Ringo, who you swore was still behind you, that your celebration ended.

“Sorry!” he apologized, reaching out a sleeve to help you up. “Stealthy!”

“You do that a lot,” Mizu remarked, raising a thin eyebrow as you wiped the collected snow off your kimono.

“Don't worry about us, Mizu.” You searched the crowds, scanning the various stalls and attractions that surrounded you. “Plenty to do, lots to see! Go off and train or whatever it is you need to do, Ringo and I can entertain ourselves in the meantime. Right, Ringo?”

Ringo’s eyes paced frantically between you and Mizu as the new, samurai duties he embraced in his soul fought against the fun within his heart. You could see the fire in him blazing brilliantly to remain diligent in the vows he swore to Mizu—to uphold the will and tenants of what it meant to be a samurai.

Before Ringo could make a choice, Mizu bent down in front of the man, reaching her hands around his ankle as she tied a small silver bell around the cuff of his pant leg.

"You are never to take that off." She turned to face you, lifting her finger to point at one of the towering mountains that surrounded this town. "I'll set up camp on the eastern cliffs—I'm going to use this time for training."

You glanced in the direction, peering further and further up towards the lofty summit enveloped by a growing layer of slowly freezing snow. It was an impressive sight to behold, but the height was obviously far too much for a person to traverse by foot. With a sigh, you pinched some money from your pouch and held it out towards Mizu.

"Buy a cheap one, and don't come back too late." You frowned at all the empty shops, closed and boarded for the festivities today.

No restocking to be done here. The contents of your inro wasn't running low by any means, but it was always better to remain fully equipped and prepared.

Mizu's hand briefly rested atop your own before she gently slid the money away. "I promise we'll have enough for another horse." She turned towards Ringo. "You. You should stay here and have fun. Forever, even. There's no shame in making a home here and keeping your life."

"An apprentice would never leave his master's side!" You watched as Ringo's eyes wandered to the celebrations that surrounded him. "But maybe, just a little fun…then tomorrow…"

The plump chef waltzed into the crowd, joining the villagers and their boisterous activities while you and Mizu stood amidst crowded stalls and enthusiastic townspeople. You were glad Ringo had begun following the two of you in private. Mizu was smart enough to remain subtle—and when she wasn't, she was smart enough to tie off any and all loose ends—which allowed the two of you to move fairly freely across the land. But you were perturbed by the thought of what could potentially happen to happy-go-lucky Ringo, who had never taken a life before, much less use a weapon with as wide of a reach as a katana.

But you were smart enough to know that Mizu had no actual plans to train Ringo, and would be trying to ditch the poor man as soon as she could. You hoped he would be smart enough to take her advice and start a life, maybe even a family, in this town. Its people seemed nice enough, at least.

Unfortunately, you knew Ringo would never take such an inglorious opportunity. Not with a master as skilled as Mizu was.

Even worse, you were starting to think her prideful nature was growing on him.

"I think I've got a blister, Mizu," you groaned, hurriedly trudging behind Mizu, who refused to break his stride. "Can we stop so I can wrap my foot?"

You watched Mizu's shoulders slowly rise, followed by a loud exhale. Although you hadn't been traveling with him for too long, you'd learned this was his way of saying, Alright, but make it quick, I don't like waiting!

It was also his way of saying, Shut up, you're annoying, and, Why did I bring someone like you along? You often wished he'd be more expressive, but broaching the subject would likely result in the same nonverbal display as always.

A nearby rock provided you an uncomfortable seat to rest on while you removed your sandal and sock. Despite its lack of cushioning, the summer sun kept the stone pleasantly warm—a comfort you rarely received ever since you began following the samurai.

Luckily, the blister hadn't torn while you were walking, lowering the overall risk of infection that you had been worried about. You tightly wound your foot—using less fabric than you would have preferred, on account of having a patient who was at risk of bleeding to death after every potential encounter—tapping it gently against the side of the rock to ensure there wouldn't be too much pressure as you walked.

"Need me to look at anything? You arms, your shoulder?" Your tongue clicked flatly at the last word, gingerly slipping your sock back onto your foot. Judging by his nettled eyebrows, pinched together like two untimely bolts of lightning, Mizu clearly didn't appreciate your offer of aid.

You slid back into your sandal. "Before you puff your shoulders at me," you accused, "there may come a time where you're laid out on the ground like a dying fish, sputtering air you don't have and leaking blood you can't afford to lose. And I'll be there, throwing my supplies at your convulsing body because you made it very clear that you don't like to be touched."

Mizu's face remained as frigid as ice, but maybe it was your complaints, or perhaps the sun baking down on the both of you, that you saw a small pearl of sweat forming on his temple.

"So while you're lying down on that sandy beach, or maybe the edge of a cliff, or even right damn here, don't try to complain to me about how I didn't help!"

You threw your hand in his direction, indignantly pointing a finger right at his chest. A warm, forceful hand intercepted your own, lightly squeezing your four remaining fingers into a ball.

Seems like it was the sun after all, you thought to yourself, preparing for the man to cut you down for your impropriety. But all you heard from Mizu was a sigh, and the grip on your hand fell away back to him as he tucked his arms over his chest.

"We can talk about this later tonight," he finally said.

You were expecting at least some anger to still be present in Mizu's voice, but his tone and body language seemingly betrayed your thoughts. You weren't an expert on body language, nor were you accustomed to men feeling anything but horny, angry, impatient, or the most common emotion of all: drunk.

"Alright, fine. Later tonight." You mirrored Mizu's posture, crossing your arms. "Better get a move on then, samurai, if you wanna get somewhere bug-free."

You watched his head twitch and shoulders rise as a pointed breath expelled itself from deep within his chest. It was as if he was saying, You were the one that wanted to stop first, idiot!

Maybe men were easier to read than you thought.

"Why do they sell horses today, but not a fucking boat?" you grumbled, sitting atop your pleasantly warm steed.

The festivities left you bored out of your mind, leaving you to prowl the various food stands and stalls set up along the streets. It was nice to have a warm, delicious meal—something you hadn't had since visiting Ringo's original shop. The Shindo Dojo clearly just ate to survive, or maybe they just hated you and Mizu. Perhaps both were true.

Instinct and preservation demanded and gnawed at you to scarf down your food, but you had enough self control to savor each and every noodle. It was a savory, sweet pork flavor that hit every sweet spot you had, and it truly took everything within you to not reach for Ringo's portion.

The growing positive emotions you had towards the jubilant celebration was cut short the moment everyone around you began stripping completely naked. You would have screamed if it was only one person, but watching the entire village divest themselves so hurriedly left your jaw hanging.

You grabbed Ringo, who looked way too excited for your liking. "I'm gonna go buy a horse and see how Mizu's doing. I hope you, uh, have fun?"

Ringo beamed heartily and began disrobing himself, which you took at a great cue to begin your hasty retreat.

The horse wasn't particularly fast—not that you were complaining, of course. When you pay half of what a good horse costs, you should be happy to get anything. It wasn't like you had anywhere to urgently be anyways, only somewhere to urgently escape.

"I would have had grabbed Mizu a bowl of the good stuff, horsie," you sighed, stretching your neck. "If only everyone had kept their clothes on, she could have had a taste of pure flavor gold."

She'll forgive me. You began humming a tune. Classic, forgiving Mizu is happy enough with whatever she has available.

As your horse galloped further up the mountain, you began wishing you left the town earlier. Darker and darker hues began creeping over the distant waters as the sun slunk closer and closer to the awaiting waves, preparing to engulf the daylight in but a few more hours. You hadn't meant to leave Mizu alone for so long, though you doubt Mizu cared that much. Training is good for the mind, she always said.

You weren't expecting to be faced with an empty cliff.

She must have went further back, your inner voice insisted as you dismounted your horse. It's far too empty up here, she could have slipped off the cliff if she wasn't careful. She's further back, practicing her swings on weaker trees.

Slipping, weaker trees? Are you kidding? A voice deeper within your mind scoffed. Where's her horse? Where's the evidence? We would have seen her as we climbed these heights!

You clutched your head. In anger? Or maybe it was sadness? Your mind felt jumbled and your throat felt tight—maybe it was something in the noodles, or the thinner air up on the mountain that was causing such a heavy weight to sit on your chest.

Stumbling closer to a lone tree, you braced yourself against its thin trunk. Your legs felt weak, and all you wanted to do was sit and think, but you weren't able to do either of those comfortably right now.

You ran your hand against the bark, letting your nails trace the bumps and deep-set grooves that had grown and lived for years on the tree. Inhaling, you trailed the various marks until you felt your entire nail slide into the tree, a slit too thin for your entire finger to enter. You turned to look, only to see no visible mark, yet were able to run your fingernail down more than a couple inches. The other side of the tree had a similar phenomenon directly across from the first—a long sliver, a cut, that perforated the tree.

Like a sword.

You scrambled to the cliff's brink, falling and crawling on your knees as you carelessly peered over the edge. Three bodies were thrown carelessly across the cliffside, blood splattered across the rocks and dripping down the sides. All three were dead, judging by their disjointed and partially broken bodies, likely from the fall they took.

Your eyes darted across each and every rock, fruitlessly attempting to pick out that navy shade from the surrounding gray. Down, way further down—the shoreline, were two figures. You could barely make them out as humans, only the glint of their swords confirmed your suspicions. When had you started hyperventilating? You needed to calm down, scream out Mizu's name, but that tightness in your throat had yet to subside, and your breathing kept coming out so damn shallow.

The quiet sounds of your horse broke through the hollow winds of the mountain, and you raced over to ascend your steed. Branches whipped around, forcing you to duck your head to avoid them, relying on your horse to avoid the countless trees and rocks that stood in your way. You held the reins tightly, barely able to feel the leather bite into your palms as you futilely focused on fixing your breathing.

All you could hear was your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump, thump, thump almost perfectly matching the thundering hoofbeats of your horse as it descended the mountain at top speeds. It was four against one—was—now it's one on one.

Mizu's won plenty before. One on ones. Two on ones. Hundreds on one, you told yourself.

But it was normally Mizu who started the fights, or fools she was fighting against—like in Shindo Dojo. This was only four men, and Shindo Dojo was about eight times that many. But Mizu wasn't normally ambushed, and she wasn't normally injured, either. This fight was different, someone wanted Mizu dead.

It took you far longer than you wanted to get back down the mountain.

A horse voice, so, so far away. "Then take it," was all you heard as you reached the rocky shore, tides crashing against rough slabs and dragging gravel as the water rescinded back to its basin.

You practically leaped off your horse, just in time to see Mizu's body fall over, sword in hand. Standing in front of her body was a man—a familiar green that you could recognize, even as far away as you were.

That loser from Shindo Dojo.

With an energy you didn't understand, you charged towards the two. The cold, wet slate below your feet feared your emotions, wisely choosing to aid your steps rather than trip you up. Your intention was to tackle the man—Taizou, or Taishi, or whatever the fuck his shitty name was. But before you could get even an arm's reach from the man, you heard a battle cry from behind him, watching as Ringo leapt forward to tackle him.

The scream you wanted to unleash at the cliff finally ripped itself from your throat, although it came out as a mangled cry of Mizu's name. You could feel your chest heaving, eyes growing wet as small beads collected on your waterline. The longer you looked at Mizu's injuries, the larger the tears grew, washing down your face as you assessed the damage they'd been able to do to her.

"—not me! The Fangs!" You finally heard the man speak, turning your head to look at him, pinned down beneath Ringo like a pathetic worm.

Giving him a small amount of credence, you let your eyes wash over the scene before you, quickly landing on the nearby corpse of a somewhat armored man, a broken sword fallen beside him. While you weren't able to see much from above earlier, you could at least confirm that he wore the same clothing as the other bodies you managed to spot laying among the towering rocks.

Ringo, abandoning his grasp on the other samurai, rushed over to the two of you.

"Master, no," he croaked, reaching down to pick Mizu up. As he did, her sword slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground.

You immediately lunged for it, cradling the blade in you arms. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the man stepping towards Mizu.

"Don't touch him!" you barked, watching his body grow with hesitancy.

Just as you and Ringo began to step away, the bastard spoke again.

"There's a shrine," he began, "up the mountain."

"He'll be safe there."

#mizu x reader

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