lucetilogs | when johnny comes marching home

[The first few days of the draft hadn't been terribly pleasant, but the last— oh, the last day had been worse than all of them combined. The terrain and the wildlife, the storm and flooding, the near-endless stream of enemy fighters overwhelming even the semi-protected territory around the base camp, all of it combined to make the setting pure hell. And yet through it all Ayumu endured, keeping her stoic calm: even with much of her sense of self in turmoil she still had her training to fall back on and her pride to keep her steady.

Though during the long day she'd added a few more injuries to the assortment of minor cuts and bruises already acquired in the unfamiliar and hazardous setting, it had seemed that she would return home almost unscathed— at least up until only mere hours before midnight. The darkness, the confusion, the rain, and the weariness that came with being still human finally took its toll, and when a group of the Third Party ambushed the small party, it had changed. With his capacities reduced by the presence of a Shifter Nataku hadn't noticed a soldier striking at him from behind; with clumsiness born of fatigue Ayumu hadn't managed to move quite fast enough, and though her knife found a home in the Shifter's throat she still fell beneath a blow from another's blade that sliced through one concealed wing.

The next few hours she recalls only in bits and pieces, a feverish blur of rain and mud and pain, mingled voices and shouts and the clash of weapons. And then abruptly— it is over. Silence, without so much as the spatter of raindrops. Ayumu opens her eyes for a moment, a heartbeat later recognizing the sparse surroundings of her room in House 50, and is halfway tempted to think it nothing but a fever-dream. And then she relaxes, recognizing safety and releasing her hold on consciousness at last.]

[ Shinpachi is doing better with sleeping than before, but nothing goes away completely for a Shinsengumi member. This is especially true on nights where someone he cares for is away, risking her neck, where he could do nothing to protect her.

He didn't want to fail her twice. That was not a think Shinpachi Nagakura could stomach without fully cracking.

The short man was ambling his way down the hall to return his sake cup to the kitchen sink. By force of habit and hope, he glances through the door of Ayu-nee's room, checking for her. He expects nothing, as his life was not so convenient that she'd show when he was anticipating her.

His result, well, it's hard to say if it ironic or not in his fuzzy state of mind.

There she is, or at least he is presuming it is her. For a minute, he forgets his manners and all sense of social standards and hurries into her room, without even a knock, just wanting to see her face. In the dark, it's hard to tell, but that is no man's build and he is almost sure it is her, but... ]

Ayu-nee...

[It's a measure of how exhausted she is that Ayumu doesn't immediately wake at the sense of another's presence in her room. At the sound of the familiar voice saying her name, though, she does stir, her head turning slightly toward the sound.]

...Nagakura-san?

[Her voice is pitched low in an unconscious attempt to hide the weakness in it, but still unmistakably hers.]

[ There's a big sigh of relief and Shinpachi's shoulders drop as he steps a little closer to her. He pushes some hair from her face to look it over for scratches, the best he can, and he looks relieved.

Not too much damage? Not that he can see in his drunken haze. ]

Took you long enough, Ayu-nee.

[In the darkness it's especially difficult to see anything other than the fact that she's soaked to the skin and splashed with mud as well— her face is untouched, without so much as a bruise, though her skin may feel just a bit too warm. She gives a soft, almost startled-sounding laugh at his comment, allowing her eyes to drift closed again.]

I kept my promise, though.

[ He smiles a little more. Hearing her speak again. That's a comfort. He keeps his hand against her face for a moment or two before bringing it back. ]

You picked the most ridiculous hour to come back. Let me go get you a few towels so you don't catch your death. Wouldn't that be terrible, getting through the fight then getting slaughtered by a bug?

Not my decision.

[If she'd been able to choose Ayumu would've been back home long before— once the storm had hit would have been nice, for instance. Or once it became clear the enemy far outnumbered their own forces. But now that she is home, and safe, she doesn't have to stay on her guard as she had out in the jungle, and she relaxes just a fraction. Just enough that she doesn't open her eyes again, voice fading a little as she starts to drift back to sleep.]

...it was raining.

Careless, careless, Ayumu-nee.

[ He chides her, but his tone is joking. He leaves to get her a towel, letting her nod off while he does so. He comes back, taking his time to do so, before shaking her shoulder gently and trying to get her sitting up. ]

Come on, Ayu-nee, this won't take long.

[Once asleep it seems she wants to stay that way, as even when he's there and talking to her it takes a moment for Ayumu to open her eyes again. She forces a small smile as she's moved, though, trying to reassure him.]

I'm all right. Just... tired. It was a long day.

[Though once she's sitting up the slash in the fabric along her back is visible, with blood-stained and rain-soaked bandages beneath.]

Still, I don't think you want to wake up with this mud dried on ya, right? I--

[ He sees it, barely, in the dark as he squints his eyes. He frowns and hands her the towels. ]

Those need changed, too. Hold on...

Perhaps I could just use a bath....

[With the way that Ayumu is drooping, it's unlikely she could manage a bath unaided, no matter how much she might need or want one at the moment. It's like all her strength drained out with the blood from the severed wing, so she's required to use all her focus and determination just to keep her eyes open. She fumbles briefly with the towels when he hands them to her, movements uncharacteristically clumsy before she gets a proper hold.]

Change what?

You might drown if I let you do that... I could draw you one, though, if you really want.

[ And he's not against helping her with it. He's mature enough to handle it, at least, moreso than the other two of his trio, he thinks. He wonders if she'd be more comfortable with Sannan's help, though. ]

Ayu-nee, your back. The bandages are soaked through -- here. [ He takes the towel back from her and gently ruffles her hair with the towel, trying to get the excess water off. ]

...ah.

[Any pretense that she's fine was doomed from the beginning, of course; only a complete idiot would have believed it, and Shinpachi is anything but. Even so, she still hadn't wanted him to see what she imagines her back must look like right now.

After a brief pause, Ayumu forces a smile and soft laugh.]

Oh, it's nothing much. Really.

[ His face loses its lightness. If it were one of the guys, he'd slap her wound once, sharp for trying to play it off so simply. He just shows that reaction with his face. ]

I've had and treated enough wounds to know better than that... let's get you to the washroom, at least.

[Ayumu closes her eyes for a moment, her expression returning to a careful neutral, then breathes out what isn't quite a sigh and nods.]

It would be nice to get out of these wet clothes.

[ He holds a hand out to her, offering help. ]

C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and put back together. I promise, the sleep you have then will be much nicer.

[He's right and she knows it perfectly well, but if she accepts his help then he'll know that she needs it. And just how much she needs it, as well. It's enough to make Ayumu hesitate briefly before she sets her hand in his.]

I'm sorry to bother you so, Nagakura-san.

[ He holds her hand firmly and shakes his head. It doesn't matter to him. He feels better that she's tangible. He has no worry about being late this time. ]

Sleep wasn't happening tonight, anyway. It gives me something to do, right?

You do need your sleep, you know.

[And if they're talking about him maybe she can pretend not to notice how hard it is for her to work up the energy to move, or the way moving jostles the severed wing and sends renewed waves of pain echoing out along her back. She should be stronger than this, able to cope with a simple injury without worrying those she's supposed to be taking care of, and yet she still has to cling to his hand for just the support to stay sitting upright.]

I know, but I'm used to it.

[ He notices, though, but without comment. She is probably fully aware of how much she seems to be struggling. He just keeps his hand firm and steady so she at least has something sturdy to work against. ]

[With his help she manages to pull herself to her feet, but she isn't doing any better standing than she was sitting. In fact, she's doing quite a bit worse, and she has to close her eyes for a minute to regain her equilibrium. Despite that fact she still stubbornly refuses to say a word about it, keeping the conversation on him instead.]

I'm sure I could get you something to help you sleep, if you need it.

[ His other hand holds onto her arm, too, for an added amount of support. He is hoping she can just make it TO the bathroom. As awkward as it might be, he could, in theory, carry her but it wouldn't be good for her back, he knows that much. He starts trying to lead her along. ]

I'm alright with it. It's not as bad as it sounds.

[It's fortunate that the bathroom isn't far from her room, or else she might not make it there. As it is it's still difficult and he has to support a lot of her weight as she walks.]

If you're sure....

[ He moves slow, for both of their sakes, and opens the door for her and lets her step in in front of him. ]

Yeah, yeah... it's almost old game by now, this not sleeping thing.

But it really shouldn't be—

[Moving ahead of him turns out not to work so well, as the shift in her balance makes her lose it just long enough for her to bump the door frame in the darkness. It's a tiny thing, really, but the pain that results is far out of proportion to it and for an instant she just freezes in place, not moving, not even daring to breathe.

And then the moment passes and her shoulders stiffen just a bit as she refuses to let it stop her; she continues to move forward, if slowly.]

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