Chapter Text
Emma woke up on a futon for the first time in several weeks feeling well rested and, for a brief moment, she could ignore the whole world in exchange for a few more seconds of oblivion.
Her arm ached, a reminder to check on the bandages, and as soon that thought arrived, the rest of her responsibilities came unbidden. She sighed before she even opened her eyes.
The wooden beams overhead were familiar in the painful kind of way, she’d been to the training house before with Lord Isshin before he got too sick to walk the path up the mountain. But those few times had been nice, they had trained and while Isshin had fished in the small stream, Emma had taken to wandering the mountain, collecting herbs for medicine and food. Dougen had been with them and he’d told her of new uses for some of the plants she’d found. On the last occasion Lord Isshin even managed to get Lord Genichiro to join them up on the mountain. Genichiro had always preferred to go there alone.
She’d been happy then, a lifetime ago.
Sitting up, she found herself alone in the house and painfully got to her feet to step out, searching for her companions.
The first one she found was Kuro sitting on the porch. He was fiddling with the hem of Wolf’s old scarf, a frown on his face making his baby cheeks slightly more pronounced, highlighting how much weight he’d lost in the days they spent away from each other. The claw marks on his face made her stomach clench uncomfortably, but the wounds weren’t infected and had scabbed over from what she could see and so she left it alone.
“Good morning,” Emma said and waited for Kuro’s reaction. Yesterday’s fight had been unnecessary and Emma wondered why Kuro had reacted like he had. Fujioka hadn’t known they were looking for the sword in the beginning, hadn’t known when he started the research after having been rescued. There was clearly something about the ministry he wasn’t telling them, but he hadn’t been working with them back then.
He greeted her with some slight hesitation, telling her she wasn’t the only one sore after the harsh words from yesterday.
“Have you slept well?”
“I have,” Emma admitted, then glanced in the direction of Kuro’s ire.
On the opposite side of the cave against the rock wall, Fujioka sat with his sandals, sewing its fraying hay together with needle and thread. His movements were stiff and jerky and he refused to look up from his shoes.
Emma felt the energy she had woken up with starting to drain already. She looked back to Kuro.
“Where’s Hanbei?”
“He’s... he went out to fish. And keeping guard.”
Emma raised her eyebrow.
Kuro sighed, then glanced up at her with a pinched expression.
“I... I think I overreacted yesterday,” Kuro said, too low for Fujioka to hear. “But it’s still true, everything I said. Wolf could have been beyond saving, Fujioka could have died. Just thinking about it made me so scared, I stopped thinking. I can’t take it back.”
He pulled his knees to his chest and Emma ached at how small he seemed to become.
“Go to Riza and the library,” Emma advised. “Let the hot feelings cool, then look at it again.”
“I just don’t understand why...” Kuro cut himself off.
“People do a lot of things to survive,” Emma said. Her stomach clenched at the thought.
“Not that,” Kuro said, “Why stay and help?”
Emma fell silent, then glanced at Fujioka, who miserably continued his sowing. He didn’t seem to listen to their conversation, his gaze was wild in the corners, yet somehow focused miles away from the cave.
“I guess,” Emma said eventually, “we have to find out.”
Kuro lowered his head, his bangs hiding his eyes.
“He can’t leave until we can be certain it’s safe,” Kuro said unhappily.
Emma clenched her hand to her sides.
“I agree,” she said quietly.
She went over to Fujioka after having eaten some leftover rice from the others’ breakfast. He was sewing by the stream, not so incidentally as far away from Kuro’s position as possible in the small cave. She began washing her bowl, a bit to his left without acknowledging him at first. As she silently put her tactic of attacking the discussion in order, questions sorted through.
Fujioka was the first to speak.
“Are you going to ignore me too?”
She glanced at him and he was staring down at his sowing again, starting anew on the other shoe. He looked faintly grey in his complexion, as if he hadn’t slept for a long time.
“I’m not,” Emma’s tone was light but decisive and Fujioka’s fingers clenched on the shoes he was trying to mend. She needed information to know how to handle Fujioka, who better to ply for it than the infobroker himself? She just had to peel off the lies until the truth showed its face. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I don’t believe it’s something that would harm us anymore.”
The lie made Fujioka’s shoulders relax incrementally even as he grimaced. It was a start. Emma quietly catalogued his reaction.
“Why did you come back? You could have run in the opposite direction of Kuro, could have left Ashina and never returned,” Emma asked. The water was shockingly cool and she tried to keep her bandages as dry as possible, letting the bowl rest on the bottom of the spring and using her non-bandaged hand to clean it. It was difficult, watching what she was doing at the same time as she kept most of her attention on Fujioka.
Fujioka swallowed and Emma was watching his expressions, trying to find anything but the gut-tired man beside her.
“It was harder... I thought about the curse, the cause of the suffering in Ashina. If I helped Kuro there would be less people ending up like...”
“—like me?”
Fujioka not so subtly jumped as Hanbei came in from the water tunnel and onto their impromptu meeting point. He had caught a fish which he put on the moss by the stream before he sat down on Emma’s side, opposite of Fujioka. Hanbei smiled mirthlessly and Emma held back a frustrated sigh.
Hanbei’s face was withdrawn and tight.
“You have the sword already,” Fujioka said bitterly, “I’m not working with the ministry, what more do you want?”
“Trust you not to lie?” Hanbei snapped back and Emma shot him a warning look that he of course ignored. Fujioka is going to close like a clam, fantastic.
Fujioka looked briefly furious before a mirthless grin was plastered on his face. Emma would have been impressed if she hadn’t been keeping up with the Ashina house intrigues for as long as she could remember. His eyes were too shiny though, mirroring the emotions underneath.
“I’m an info peddler,” Fujioka said, “if I lied about my information I’d be without a job. And probably dead.”
“I’m sure the general was very pleased when you told him that,” Hanbei shot back.
A muscle in Fujioka’s jaw jumped and Emma decided to interrupt before this got worse.
“Hanbei, go back outside if you’re only here to fight.”
Fujioka was looking slightly green when Hanbei stomped outside again, the water sloshing in his wake. Fujioka cleared his throat.
“What do you want, Dr Emma?”
Emma blinked at the sharp edge to his voice but supposed it was only to be expected after that wreck of a conversation.
“Why do you want to help end the curse?” she wanted to ask; wanted to ask, “Why are you staying with no stakes? How did you survive a manhunt?”
The fact was staring her in the face and the only explanation she could find was that he had sold them out. Why else behave like he had for the days reunited? Am I missing something?
“Stay inside the cave for the time being,” Emma said. You’re better off staying close than walking around unsupervised. I think Hanbei will lose it if we have to hunt you down for fleeing. She stood up and, before Fujioka could follow, she turned and stared him directly in the eye. “Don’t do anything stupid. Hanbei’s angry enough already.”
“For not wanting him to die!” Fujioka protested and Emma wondered what Shigekichi’s orders to him had been. Anger churned in her gut and she took a deep breath and wondered if Hanbei and Kuro were the only ones who needed time to let feelings cool.
“Still,” Emma said, letting none of her anger show. What did she know, maybe this was how Fujioka had always been, a man who sold his rescuers to a general. The man cheering a mourning child only an act to use when it benefited him.
Except he took the sword for Hanbei’s sake. He was truthful then. Maybe it just wasn’t the only truth.
On her tongue was the bitter realisation that she, as badly as Fujioka, wished Hanbei never had laid his eyes on the mortal blade. If Fujioka hadn’t chosen the path he’d taken with the Ministry, she and he could have worked to keep Hanbei together.
Maybe that was why she was so angry.
She left —went outside to hunt for Hanbei.
He sat by the pool outside, glaring at into the water while working his jaw.
“Are you here to tell me I’m overreacting?” Hanbei said, stiff.
Emma wanted to sigh but knew better, knew Hanbei would misunderstand. She shook her head.
“We have the sword, that has to be enough for now. But this brings to question what he promised Shigekichi.”
Hanbei looked at her.
“You’re talking about that thing before?”
You sound a lot more sure about it now when you know one thing he kept from you . She couldn’t fault Fujioka for that, for keeping a friend alive. If you promise to live the last life to the fullest, Hanbei, there's nothing in the world that will stop me from helping you find mortal life once more .
“We’re keeping him under watch for now,” Emma said, “Kuro’s orders.”
Later in the morning, Riza returned with Kuro from the inner sanctum and Emma who had studiously avoided Fujioka in favour of going through the meagre medicine cabinet, resurfaced from her job.
Riza had a faint puzzled frown on her face when she looked in Fujioka’s direction and Emma couldn’t decide what expression Fujioka was looking back at her with; anger? Fear? Pleading?
“I spoke to Riza of Fujioka,” Kuro said, his earlier anger finally seemed to have dimmed into sadness.
Emma only nodded.
“He isn’t forgiven, but what he did spoke of a good person making a bad choice,” Kuro hesitated, looking back at Fujioka.
“I suppose the best way is for you to decide for yourself what you think of him. But now you know what he’s kept from us, willingly.”
Riza was silent for a moment more, then inclined her head in understanding.
“Will he still help with your mission?”
Emma blinked but Kuro nodded, serious.
“He said he will, as penance.”
“Then I speak to him,” she said, simply as that. She moved over to open a conversation and Emma stood where she was, watching. Fujioka looked up when Riza approached, looking apprehensive. Emma clenched her fists, hiding them in her sleeves. What could Fujioka buy for the information of the divine child’s whereabouts? Half of Ashina? A noble title? I can’t change any of that now, just keep him under watch , Emma told herself.
“Lord Kuro, how was the library?” Emma said, trying to distract herself. “I feel a lot better today, we should hurry and get back to our mission.”
Kuro gave her a knowing glance and Emma refrained from calling him out on it. Despite being down for the count for fighting, her mind was still whirring away. They needed to work on the curse, even with Fujioka’s betrayal.
“Let’s go there later, I need some food,” Kuro said and Emma realised she probably needed to exchange the bandages of her arm anyway. They went into the house and Emma unwrapped her arm and began another batch of boiling bandages.
“How is your arm?” Kuro said.
Emma held it up, turning it slightly for him to see. The wound had scabbed over but the skin still looked red and raw; it stretched unpleasantly while she moved the arm.
“It’s not great,” Emma admitted. “It’s still slightly infected, but minding the size of it... It’s basically impossible to think it wouldn’t get infected. Hopefully I can keep the remaining infection at bay.”
Kuro bit his lip and Emma smiled at him reassuringly.
“If it gets worse I’ll tell you and Hanbei what to do. But I suspect the traveling I’ve been doing the last week hasn’t done me any favours.”
Kuro stood up but Emma held out her undamaged hand and motioned for him to sit down again.
“I should have told you to wait,” Kuro muttered, staring at his knees. “There was no reason for you to travel while hurt.”
“I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t find it necessary,” Emma said, then, “can I see?”
Kuro’s eyes remained blank for a second, and Emma motioned to her own cheek. The realisation hit Kuro and he looked down and away from Emma.
“Fujioka made some paste to put on it, but I don’t remember what it was,” Kuro said, his voice weak.
Emma hummed, gently turning his cheek to the side while her unbandaged wounded arm rested loosely to her side, air drying from being cleaned.
“He probably put on a poultry of divine grass,” Emma said, approval in her voice before she caught herself remembering being angry with him. “Are there any other wounds?”
“I was really dehydrated, but it’s better now,” Kuro said. He was still looking down in his lap.
Emma’s hand left his cheek.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Hesitation had been wrung out of her by Isshin during her childhood— but it didn’t mean her voice was bordering on it when she continued, “of the fountainhead palace? Of Wolf?”
Kuro shook his head and Emma tried not to feel disheartened.
“I... I just hope to find a way to get him out of there,” Kuro said and Emma’s heart ached.
“I hope so too, Lord Kuro, I hope so too.”