#in which Obi and Mihaya have a past

[traditional-with-a-twist]

Windy Mountain Rain

Chapter Masterpost

Day 5 - Cherish

“He’s still a little shrimp, huh?” Mukaze hefted Shigure, swinging him above his head and back down. Shigure giggled and put his thumb in his mouth. “You sure you’re feeding him enough?”

“Hey, hey, Shirayuki’s Shigure!” With his curls trimmed to a bob, Kazuki had grown into his looks. He waved at her little boy. “I’m Kazuki. You can call me ‘uncle’ ‘cuz I’m Shirayuki’s adopted brother.”

Obi cocked an eyebrow at Mukaze. “Oh, really?”

Mukaze shrugged and passed Shigure to Kazuki. “It was either that or listen to him ask me to do it for the rest of his life.” He scratched his head. “Does it bother you,” he asked Shirayuki, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“O-oh. Of course not!” Shirayuki waved his concern away, eyes on her son as Kazuki jumped onto a bench with Shigure on his shoulders.

Shigure grabbed Kazuki’s curls for balance. “Ow, ow, ow, ow! Watch it!” Laughing, Kazuki untangled Shigure’s fingers from his hair. Shigure looked down at his enthusiastic mount with mostly bemusement, but he didn’t seem distressed, so Shirayuki returned her attention to Mukaze.

Her dad was watching her. “I remember when your mother would zone out like that, after we had you.” He gazed past them into the forest, his smile distant.

Shirayuki felt Obi’s arm around her shoulders tighten.

“Hey, Chief!” Itoya called up from the lower level. “The king’s envoy is here again. Should I tell him you’re busy?”

Mukaze blinked and looked over the rickety wooden railing. “Nah! Just send him up!” he called. “He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he, Shirayuki?”

Shirayuki started. “Who?”

“Got more problems for you to sort out, old man,” an all-too familiar voice drawled as the king’s envoy strolled around the corner. He was back to the scarf and knit warmers he had worn when she first encountered him, instead of his aristocratic costume.

“Ah, Mihaya!”

He stopped walking so abruptly he staggered. “Red?!” Mihaya cleared his throat when everyone, including Kazuki, stared at him. “I mean, Shirayuki. So you’ve finally showed up.”

Mukaze leaned back against the railing, which was sagging beneath his weight. He crossed his arms and nodded at Mihaya. “Weren’t you just here?” he remarked.

“It’s not my fault that I get sent on all these errands! I’m hardly ever home anymore,” Mihaya snapped. Rounding on Shirayuki, he said, “You’d understand what a pain it is, if you saw my new place. You should visit! Wait ‘til you see what I’ve built.”

Obi leaned over Shirayuki’s shoulder. “Ah, too bad. We can’t stay so long just for a visit like that.” He smirked, and Shirayuki tilted her head, wondering what was funny.

“I’m sure you can’t,” Mihaya muttered, scowling at Obi. He mumbled something else under his breath before his expression lightened. He put his hands behind his head and turned back to Shirayuki. “You know, I thought we’d see you sooner after that prince of yours got himself killed. I mean, this is your home, right? Why stay in Clarines now?”

Shirayuki swallowed the old sorrow at the thought of the home she could have had with Zen in Clarines. She put her hand over Obi’s, relaxing as she felt him shift closer to her. “We’re not staying in Clarines. It’s better for Obi on the road, so we’ve been traveling all this time.” She laughed. “By now, it’s almost like our home is everywhere.”

Mihaya looked down at her, scratching his head. He glanced between her and Obi. “You’re traveling with him…?”

“And this little guy!” Kazuki broke in. He bounced Shigure in his arms. “Whaddya think, Mihaya? I’m an uncle now!” Shigure let himself be cuddled, hand in his mouth again.

Mihaya stared at the two of them, jaw dropped. “He…you…you’re with that stray cat?!”

Shirayuki frowned. Her grip on Obi’s hand tightened. “Obi is my husband,” she told Mihaya firmly.

He seemed even more aghast at her confirmation. “But why?! Shirayuki, you have a title from the king. I would have adopted you! You didn’t have to vagabond from country to country. You could live comfortably and have all the nice things—”

“I do have nice things,” Shirayuki interrupted. Mihaya didn’t mean harm to her anymore, but he had it all wrong. “Obi found us a sweet little donkey and a wonderful wagon. I have my herb garden that I can carry with me. That’s all I need for every day.” She smiled up at Obi, but he was watching Mihaya with a curiously bland expression. Shirayuki leaned into his side until she felt him tilt towards her.

“And freedom’s more important than nice things, right, Mihaya?” Kazuki piped up. “If Shirayuki’s happy, we’ll just have to put up with missing her.” He gave a deep sigh. “’S not like it’s any different from before.”

Surprised by this help, Shirayuki beamed at Kazuki. Shigure looked more comfortable in his arms now, she noted.

Returning to Mihaya, she searched for something to put him at ease. “Besides,” she offered, “for everything else that’s nice about staying in one place, I can just enjoy it when we visit friends. We were visiting King Raj a little while ago. Shigure loved the flowers and the music.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Mihaya sighed. “I was out of the country on a business trip, so I missed the whole naming ceremony. That queen is a piece of work, isn’t she?”

“Queen Katan?” Shirayuki blinked at the sudden change of subject. “She seems to get along with King Raj?” she tried, not sure what Mihaya meant.

“Too much if you ask me. You never would’ve thought that he would pick a wife with so much to say for herself,” Mihaya grumbled. “The king said it was his idea but I know that she has to be the reason he made me the crown’s official envoy to these Lions.” Mihaya jerked his thumb at Mukaze as if he contained the entire village in his person. Shirayuki’s dad shrugged, apparently content to stay out of the conversation. “She definitely doesn’t like me.”

“Ah,” was all Shirayuki could think of in response.

“No, no,” Kazuki jumped in again. “It’s because we can’t trust all the other nobles in Tanbarun! Too many of us have been burned by them.” He grinned at Mihaya. “But you’re all right! You helped us defeat the Claw of the Sea, so you’re not like them.”

“Something like that,” Mukaze spoke up finally. He looked amused.

“Sure, sure.” Mihaya waved a hand, glancing around until his gaze focused on Kazuki. “So this one’s yours?” he asked, leaning down to look into Shigure’s face. Shigure drew back, startled, and Shirayuki bit her lip.

“He’s ours,” she confirmed.

“Huh.” Mihaya straightened up again. “Cute. Seems kinda rough on him, though, dragging him all over the place with a donkey and a wagon. Especially since he likes pretty things like music and flowers.”

Shirayuki blinked. “I…suppose.” She had never thought that Shigure might be happier with another life.

“If you come to my manor, I have some great music boxes I bet he’ll like.” Mihaya was still facing Shirayuki but his eyes flicked back and forth between her and Obi. “Any kid of yours should have something nice if he wants it.” Shirayuki noticed her dad raise his eyebrows, but Mukaze stayed silent.

“Umm…well…” It was very generous of him to give Shigure a present but if Obi didn’t have time for the detour… “Maybe you could bring it here, when you get the chance? And Dad can give it to Shigure next time!” It was the perfect solution. Shirayuki smiled in relief.

To her dismay, Mihaya’s face fell. “Who knows if it will last long enough out here in the wilderness.” He closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. “It’s just a shame, Re--Shirayuki. You could have had anyone, you know.”

“Eh?” What was he talking about now?

“Oh, anyone? Even you?” Obi’s voice was light but it sent shivers down Shirayuki’s spine. He stepped around her, towards Mihaya. “Those are bold words to say in front of a woman’s husband, monkey.” Obi rested a hand on his hip. “In some lands, it could mean you were asking for a deadly fight.”

Mihaya stiffened. “Hey, watch it, cat-face! Who do you think you are, threatening me?!” His hands went to his sword. Shirayuki took a sharp breath, reaching for Obi.

“Am I? I just thought you would like to know.” Obi smiled and Mihaya hesitated, looking confused. Hand still at his belt, Obi cocked his head, his voice dropping into a register Shirayuki had rarely heard. “But even here, you’ll anger my master’s spirit talking like that.”

“Obi!” Shirayuki gave him a light push. How could he joke about that!

“Ah, missus, but it’s true!” Obi winked at her and Shirayuki felt the anxiety in her chest ease. “The master would move heaven and earth to defend your choices from monkeys like him.”

“Now you’re trying to scare me with ghosts?!” Mihaya glared at Obi but he had let go of his sword, nose wrinkled in disgust. “What kind of superstitious coward do you think I am?”

“I wonder…” Obi reached over to pluck Shigure out of Kazuki’s arms. Kazuki wilted but their son brightened immediately, snuggling against his father’s chest. Unable to help herself now that Shigure was within reach, Shirayuki put a hand up to smooth her son’s hair and adjust his cowl. Shigure’s eyes fluttered closed under her touch.

“I think he needs some rest,” Shirayuki murmured, looking back at the others. “Sorry about that…” She trailed off, surprised by the warmth in her father’s face, the delight in Kazuki’s, and the resignation in Mihaya’s as they looked at her little family. She found herself flushing without knowing why.

“Well,” Mukaze closed the distance to clap Obi on the shoulder and smile down at her. “You know best, Shirayuki.”

[claudeng80]

Disgraces (Day 7, Fire)

Mihaya isn't afraid of anything.

He wants his title back so badly he can taste it, but it's not fear that drives him, but cold ambition. His father squandered his birthright, and he'll win it back.

If he were afraid, would he be here at the castle gates, demanding to speak with the prince? No, that's simple calculation. Great rewards come only to those who take great risks. Playing it safe has left him with nothing but sore hands and an empty stomach, and he’s done. He’s not cut out for hard work. It's time for a gamble. He’s due for something to finally go his way.

This time he’s counting on the prince's soft spot for the redhead. He’s not going to begrudge her a powerful patron, because if he had her assets, he’d do just the same, make all the use of them he could. The only question left is just how much her safety is really worth to the prince.

Things are looking up when Shirayuki’s name greases his entry into the castle even more than he’d expected. Even the gate guards are smitten with her. It doesn’t surprise him this time. She’s resourceful, she’s stubborn, and she makes an impression. He thought about her a lot in prison. He smiles, ever so helpful, and the gate guard smiles back and sends a message.

The aide who comes to meet him is much harder to read. She’s pretty, but the hilt on the sword bumping at her side is too well-worn to be merely decorative. He’ll tread carefully with this one, but even she softens when he hints at his purpose. Hope is just starting to set its hooks in his heart when he hears boots running behind them. “Kiki!”

Maybe he’s relaxed too soon. He's never heard that voice before, not exactly, but something about it is far too familiar. He can't be here in the castle. In prison, he’d believe, but here . . .

The blonde stops and turns, so there’s nothing Mihaya can do but follow, holding his breath in the fruitless hope of being mistaken. The voice continues, “Are you taking him-” Catlike gold eyes narrow and Mihaya’s hopes wither on the vine. Obi’s never been the forgiving type.

Yet for some reason, Obi doesn’t betray his recognition by more than the smallest hitch in his speech. “To see Master?”

“He says he has important information for Zen.”

“Does he.” Obi’s voice drips with suspicion. “I’ll join you.” Without a word or reaction, Kiki turns and continues. With every step, Mihaya trusts the peace and order of the castle to keep him safe with Obi in arm’s reach. Were they in a private place, he’d never turn his back. It’s basic caution.

But they can pretend not to know each other, if that’s the way Obi wants it. Not like he cares. Fine.

The second prince has a long memory and a short temper. Time should have tempered his reaction; Mihaya spent half a year in prison, after all, served his sentence with exemplary behavior. There’s really no need for all the shouting.

Watching Obi where he lurks in the shadows expends attention Mihaya shouldn’t be sparing, but it means he sees the moment Obi understands his history with Shirayuki. It’s rather unfair of the prince to bring it up, it was ages ago and no harm done in the end. It paints him in a negative light that’s entirely unwarranted, but of course Obi’s ready to believe the worst. The look on his face is dangerous as he waits, still as a cat, and the effort of maintaining his cool in the face of such hostility is starting to wear on Mihaya. It’s a relief when Zen sends Obi away.

The prince crosses his arms and waits, surly, and Mihaya can’t figure any way to ask him what he wants to know. Does the prince not understand what a viper he has in his employ? Baron Merrill had been deep in Mihaya’s father’s schemes and far less savvy at hiding his tracks, so much that when the Earl of Sisk merely had his wealth and titles stripped, Baron Merrill was executed. His title was erased from the records and his son cut free of all inheritance.

Mihaya had barely thought of him then, too busy trying to find some kind of stability in his own life, but if he’d been asked, he’d have thought Obi might have gone to the pirates his father conspired with. They’d made a pet of him when he was little, teaching him to climb and throw knives, tricks he’d brought back and tried to share. Mihaya’d never had the knack for either, one of many things Obi lorded over him.

He looks like a pirate these days, with his scars and knives and that sloppy jacket. Working in the castle, for the prince himself, and that’s the best he can do. He’s never had any kind of pride in his appearance.

Shirayuki’s skittish when Obi shows her through the door, but she looks much calmer after she meets the prince’s eyes. She takes her seat, and it’s unfortunate to see her so intimidated when he knows how magnificent she can be. People can’t be at their best all of the time, he supposes, eyes tracking Obi as he settles in behind Shirayuki’s chair to loom like a suit of armor with an unwavering glare.

The prince clears his throat, impatient, and Mihaya tears his gaze away from the threat. He says his piece, describing the boy looking for Shirayuki and the circumstances surrounding the meeting. He hates the port, the smells and the fish and every job he’s had to endure to make it this far, but it put him in the right place for this, gave him the opportunity to step up out of his state of despair. When the prince doesn’t suggest it, he makes a tactful comment about reasonable consideration for his efforts, and it’s hard to imagine any noble being so naive as to be offended by that, but the prince manages.

Honestly, it’s not like he’s asking for much, just a hand up to get him back on the path where he belongs. Some money he could use to invest, an introduction to the right group of wealthy marriageable women, a job with a decent level of prestige, surely the prince can do something.

Instead he finds himself in a cell, his escort from earlier even more inscrutable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns him, her earlier sliver of warmth snuffed out, but there’s nothing to worry about. In spite of everything, Mihaya’s just where he wants to be.

***

He’s less sure of that when Obi shows up to free him. “We're checking the port, monkey, and if you try to run off, I will bring you back tied up in your own ponytail.” Obi’s voice is like his father’s but his sneer isn’t. He must resemble the mother Mihaya never met and nobody ever mentioned.

Mihaya can overlook the threats. That’s part of the cost of doing business. The nickname hurts far more, assailing him with the unwelcome memory of a long afternoon in the woods, Obi lying on a tree branch imitating a panther he'd seen in a book, Mihaya bouncing on a vine and screeching with joy. They'd called each other cat and monkey after that until Mihaya’s father had put an end to it. “Nicknames are below your dignity, and so is that family.” He'd looked up at the Earl, so confused but willing to do anything to please his father. “They have their uses, but that boy is a bad influence and not worth your friendship.”

He’d tried, for at least a week, but empty halls and books held no appeal when he knew Obi was out there, somewhere, catching tadpoles in the creek or counting the eggs in the robins’ nests. The draw was irresistible. Only now he realizes that his father probably had Baron Merrill’s downfall planned all along. The earl never expected to take the punishment alongside his scapegoat, but nobody had anticipated Prince Izana.

Obi’s silent and wary, still waiting for his response. “Fine.” Mihaya turns away from Obi's inquiring stare. “Let's get this over with.”

Of course the pretty boy is nowhere to be found. Mihaya and Obi manage civil silence the first day, observing the crowds and speaking strictly for the exchange of information. Occasionally Obi points someone out, and Mihaya responds that “No, his hair is longer,” or “No, he's shorter than that.”

Obi finds a room at an inn seedy enough to suit him. Mihaya would sigh about it, but it has a bed, and those have been in short supply lately.

Of course, Obi claims the bed.

Civil tolerance can only last so long with that much history smoldering behind them. On the second day, Mihaya does no more than stumble, Obi sneers, and Mihaya is yelling before he even knows he’s opening his mouth. “You don’t have to look at me like that! It’s not like I even did anything to you, I was a victim too!”

Obi turns, where his steps had taken him past Mihaya. His face is still, like a dark lake with unspeakable monsters below the surface. “Blame you? However could I? Blame the one who lived when my family died, who kept his name and country when I lost everything? Oh no, of course I could never blame you for any of that.” The calm voice is infinitely worse than anger. It’s cold, sharp, and there is no escaping it.

But Mihaya is too far gone to regret his words or take a single one back. “It turned out all right for you, didn’t it? Which of us is the starving criminal, and which works for the prince?” Obi’s chest is rigid under his accusing fingers. “Doesn’t look like you’ve been missing meals.”

Mihaya tastes blood, biting his tongue as his head crashes against a wall. They’d been standing in the center of the street, and he has no clue how they crossed the distance save that his feet didn’t touch the ground. “You don’t get to judge me, monkey.” Obi’s grip just under his jaw keeps him from turning his head, and he can only just watch Obi’s face from the corner of his eye. Obi’s still far too calm for any of this to make sense, his voice a level hiss that makes Mihaya’s heart want to hide. It's not fear, but any amount of self-preservation would yield the same result. “You also don’t get to pretend you know anything about me, and you certainly don’t touch me.” His fingers tighten on Mihaya’s throat just enough to make it clear exactly who’s in charge of the situation, then he lets go.

Mihaya fights to stay upright, to keep from coughing or gasping or dropping to his knees. Obi doesn’t step away, still far too close for Mihaya to move without touching him. He isn't more than an inch taller, but somehow he looms like a giant. It takes every nerve Mihaya can muster to look past him, calmly adjust his scarf, and just wait, feigning calmness. He still can’t draw an easy breath until Obi turns and walks away.

It’s not as though he’s intimidated, but perhaps silence is the wisest approach. Mihaya seethes as he watches Obi try on face after face, cheerful to apologetic to subservient as he spins tales for the residents of the port. It’s mystifying, why he’d choose to play these games when he has all the power of the castle behind him, why he casts a line over and over when he could be dragging a net through the town. Mihaya snarls at himself for that vulgar metaphor. The point is that this could be going a whole lot faster.

It would be going faster, if Obi would just put some effort into it. His breath catches as a terrible idea worms its way into his mind. The way Obi looked at Shirayuki in the castle was gentle, protective even beyond how he was with the prince. It would be a risky way to turn her head, letting her be kidnapped. Surely the prince couldn’t put himself at risk, his aides would have to search her out, and Obi could be the hero who rides to her rescue.

It’s not a very good plan, but a man in love competing with a prince who has everything might be just desperate enough.

So he watches Obi with a different eye the next time he complains about the pace. The answering abuse is nearly routine now, just insults to his scarf and threats to send him away. He’d like that, wouldn’t he, if he were trying to hide something?

“With those looks and that foul mouth, it’s hard to believe you serve in the castle,” Mihaya answers, because it would look suspicious if he didn’t. But he’s a little troubled, anyway. Obi makes every show of being the loyal retainer, takes every chance to guard the relationship between Shirayuki and the prince. Of all the things that could anger him, that’s what does it? What leverage must the prince have on Obi to get him to act this way?

He’d like to point out that coming between those two is the last thing he wants, because if the prince doesn’t want her then Mihaya’s assistance is worthless, but Obi’s in a vicious mood now. It’s not worth trying to talk to him when he’s like this.

It’s a bit disappointing how much Obi sounds like his father. Just thinking of Baron Merrill and his sharp tongue still sends chills down Mihaya’s back. Not fear, just the memory of being small and powerless in front of someone who relished his power far too much. He and Obi both had been happier when they managed to avoid the baron’s notice.

Not that anyone else noticed Mihaya either. His brothers had no time for him and his father had no interest, preoccupied with issues far more important than one bored boy. Obi was his only friend, until he went off to school and Mihaya was alone, unsuspecting, until the king’s officers came and took everyone away.

The inn doesn't improve with familiarity. When Mihaya wakes up on the floor in the middle of the night to flop painfully into new positions, Obi isn't even in the room. The door is locked, the window cracked open. It’s like he’s asking Mihaya to sneak out and disappear. Too bad. Mihaya will not give him the satisfaction.

It’s been nearly a week now they’ve had nothing to do but search and sleep and argue. Surely the boy is gone, this is a waste of everyone’s time. Smug one morning at the evidence that even on the floor, he’s sleeping better than Obi, Mihaya ventures a personal question. “How did the prince react to finding out who you were?”

If he'd waited until after Obi's coffee, he probably never would have had an answer. As it is, it comes in a flinch and a blankness, not in words at all. “He doesn't know?” That’s a lever he hadn't expected. Obi is actually lying to the prince. “But how-” And what is wrong with this prince anyway? How can he trust someone without knowing who he is?

Obi just grunts, dismissing the question unanswered. Mihaya should have expected no less.

Midmorning, they cross paths with a troupe of players. A crowd has gathered, slowing traffic to a crawl through the square. Mihaya and Obi should be scanning the crowd for long hair crowning a danger to Shirayuki, but the play itself catches Mihaya’s attention. Not the plot, for sure, there’s no telling what’s going on, but one of the players looks stunningly familiar.

Obi’s voice is incredulous. “She looks just like-”

“Blacksmith Li.” Mihaya finishes the sentence, and when his smile meets Obi’s eyes, just for a moment, his friend is there again. They’d gone together to beg Li to take them as apprentices, thinking they were so grown up for taking their fate in their own hands. He realized now that her stunned silence was less impressed with their initiative and more scrambling for a way to turn them down without offending anyone who could have her ruined.

“Hey,” comes a voice from near Obi’s elbow. A kid hands him a note and disappears into the crowd almost immediately. Probably a page from the palace, grabbing the chance to watch the play before he heads back. Mihaya watches him go and misses Obi’s first reaction to the paper, but he’s frowning by the time Mihaya turns back around.

“Bad news?” Surely that’s an innocuous-enough question, it’s not like he’s worried, but Obi’s eyes narrow even further.

“No news.” He’s still reading, lips parting to show his teeth. “Come on.”

They retrace their steps, Obi sniffing into every corner like a possessed hunting dog. Mihaya might as well not be there, for all the notice he takes of him. There’s an air of desperation in his focus, and that night Obi’s out the window before Mihaya even settles down to sleep.

Obi doesn’t come back in the morning. Just like everyone else, just like last time, he disappears. It’s not fear Mihaya feels, being left alone, it’s relief. No more Obi, no more walking on eggshells, no more memories every time they turn a corner. Two guards who don’t even bother to introduce themselves escort him back to the castle like a common criminal, leaving him in a room to wait. The lock clicks behind them, and Mihaya flops onto the bed. A real bed, no less.

It’s hard to convince himself he’s accomplished anything save reconnecting with an old friend who’d like to knife him in the back. The castle’s paid for food for a week, he's been eating well, but that's not enough. None of this is enough for what he needs. But the prince hasn’t thrown him out, which means his chances to make himself indispensable aren’t over yet.

Nothing’s over. His fate still isn't his own.

With a sigh, he relaxes into the softness of the bed. It could be worse. At least he has a lot of practice waiting. He settles back to watch shadows parade across the wall and doesn't fear the future.