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tskumoyuuma · 7 hours ago

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in my other post about ans chapter 59, @nokaru said this in the tags:

#this is super interesting thank u!#obizen#there has been the discussion about whatever the guys meant like as like as a friend or like as romantically before cause English can't just#convey that#love them sm

and if theres a discussion, i might as well put my own two cents into the mix haha

let's start off by translating these pages that end chapter 58 (too lazy to get screenshots of the official translation, but it should be more or less the same. also that would be a lot of pictures in one set):

オビおまえ obi, you 俺の事好きだろう like me, right? はい yes …即答か ...an instant answer, huh いいけどな though that's fine 訊いといて you asked... 白雪の事も？ and shirayuki? はい yes 俺はお嬢さんの事が好きですよ i like my lady

first, i want to point something out to anyone who has any basic knowledge of japanese who may be confused when they see them using "[someone] no koto ga suki desu" instead of the usual textbook sentence of "[someone] ga suki desu." when you add "no koto" to a person in a sentence, the literal translation stays the same. "ore wa kimi no koto ga suki desu" means "i like you" the same way "ore wa kimi ga suki desu" means "i like you". however, "xyz no koto" literally means "things about/of xyz," so very subtly, it can change the meaning from "i like you" to "i like everything about you" ie your appearance, your behavior, your personality, basically everything related to you.

what i also want to point out to everyone is that zen's question about himself is the same as obi's answer on his feelings for shirayuki. "ore no koto suki darou" [zen asking if obi likes him] vs "ore wa ojousan no koto ga suki desu yo" [obi saying he likes shirayuki].

so, really, another way to translate those sentences could be "obi, you like everything about me, right?" and "i like everything about my lady."

i don't think anyone reading chapters 58 and 59 would read obi's last line here and think of it as anything other than romantic in connotation. this is clearly obi confessing to zen that he likes shirayuki in a romantic way. the rest of the conversation just doesn't make much sense if you only look at it in a platonic way, since obi makes it clear he didn't want to hide something like that from zen, especially if he was going to go be with her while zen had to stay in the castle.

so... if you can really only read obi's line about shirayuki in a romantic way... and the same exact phrasing is used when talking about zen... wouldn't the simplest explanation be that obi also has the same romantic feelings towards zen?

now, yes, "好き (suki)" doesn't have to mean "romantic like." but when looking at the context here, i personally find it hard not to read the conversation about zen as anything but romantic in nature.

what i think the actual question should be is... is obi being serious when he answers zen's first question?

this would be the only argument i would accept as having enough merit to prove to me that this specific part of the conversation isn't romantic while the conversation about shirayuki is. we know that obi has said some flirtatious things to zen before this chapter. these occasions are pretty much played as a joke in the manga, a way for obi to tease zen mostly.

is he doing the same thing here? their little exchange after obi says "yes" could lend proof to that theory. i would say it's up to each person's own interpretations of obi's character on how sincere he's being.

as for my own answer?

well. i would just like to point out these two panels of obi's face. him saying "yes" doesn't seem like the only thing his responses have in common.

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obizen #obiyuki #obizenyuki #i rewrote a bunch of this a few times while i was trying to get my thoughts organized #i dont think i said everything i wanted to say about these few pages here #but this is the gist of it haha #if anyone has any specific questions or want to discuss this more feel free #long post

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 7 months ago

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THIS IS NOT A DRILL

HE CRYIN. MISS SAYS SOME VERY NICE THINGS ABOUT HOW SHE NEEDS OBI WITH HER AND TO PLS NOT SEND HIM AWAY AND SHE DOESN'T KNOW HE'S THERE BUT HE HEARS IT AND HE'S CRYINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #chapter 136 spoilers #spoilers

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aeroplaneblues · 7 months ago

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A Set🍃

I just love them so🥰

#obiyuki #ans #shirayuki #obi #idraw #i only have one physical volume bc of obiyuki reasons #but something tells me i might be getting another one #obiyukiweek #sorata joining obiyuki week #obiyukiweek24 #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair

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sabraeal · 10 days ago

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Remedial Lessons, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Written for @kaedix as her birthday request...which was nearly three weeks ago now BUT in my defense...this is the most cursed time of the year when you have school going children 🤣Kimber has a gift for asking for amazing concepts as fic-- both this and the Ella Enchanted AU were previous birthday gifts for her-- and I'm always happy for an excuse to come back and add a little bit more!

For all the cloak-and-dagger Shidan had done to keep the professor’s location clandestine, like it’d be some career-ending scandal to get caught associating with this particular former colleague, Forzeno sure slots into Lilias’s established faculty like a book on a shelf. Lands himself an office and everything with nothing more than the equipment on his back and his publishing history.

“Well, it would be different if it was Shibusen,” Shidan chokes, putting his back to them. Oh, he’s got his excuse— these data aren’t going to enter themselves, after all— but Obi hasn't hung around Professor Gazelt so long to get fooled by busywork. “Lilias is less…stringent about the background of its faculty.”

Suzu glances up from his screen, head cocked and curious. “Didn’t some teaching assistant there turn out to be a serial killer?”

“A witch.” Shirayuki says it all so casually, as if she wasn’t the one that Umihebi had tried to drown in the catacombs beneath the school. “And she was faculty.”

“The school nurse.” The kid turns a glare his way, like he’s undercutting the profession by mentioning it, and he shrugs. “And by the number of kids that ‘dropped out’ and were never heard from again while she was working there, can’t say serial killer is too far off.”

“And we vet our faculty less?” Yuzuri shakes her head. “That explains the weirdo they had teaching history my first year…”

Obi snorts. “Honestly, it does a good job explaining most of my classes since we got here.”

“But he really hasn’t talked to you since you guys came back?” Suzu leans back in his chair, a divot digging in right above his nose. “Like you just hauled half his lab three hours across—”

“Five total.” His thighs burn just thinking about it. Books might look light, but all that paper adds up. “With snow, uphill both ways. They’d already cleaned up dinner before we got back.”

That’d been the worst part. All those calories burned schlepping the professor’s precious research materials out from the hinterlands, and they wouldn’t even let him to top the whole thing off with some meat and potatoes. Oh, the kid might complain about all the rib-sticking entrées in the caf, longing for something with unwilted leafy greens and maybe a tomato or two, but Obi’s happy to have anything that can keep his belly full until bedtime. And his stomach had hit the hay decidedly rumbly that night.

“Right, so a whole day spent bringing him to civilization, and he hasn’t even sent you a note?” Suzu blew out a breath, nickering like he was some kind of horse. “Kind of a dick move, isn’t it?”

“No argument here,” Obi grumbles, lost under Shirayuki’s application for heaven: “I’m sure he has plenty of higher priorities right now.”

“Sounds like Lata to me,” Shidan mutters, glancing up at their glares. “What? I’m sure he hadn’t forgotten you. But Lata Forzeno doesn’t give away information for free. He’ll call on you guys when he wants something from you.”

“But my meister already—”

There’s no time to enumerate what concessions the kid has already made, not when Ryuu bounds around the corner, his pale eyes round. “Obi. Shirayuki. Lata—”

He wheezes, collapsing over his knees, and there his weapon is, already on her feet, making a fuss. Not that Obi can say much; he’s hot on her heels, slapping a palm between Ryuu's small shoulders. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Ryuu winces, letting out another cough. “Just— one minute—”

“Catch your breath.” Shirayuki’s got a more gentle touch, rubbing a hand up and down his spine. “Were you in the library? Did you run all the way from there? You know, you really shouldn't exert yourself more than your body is used—”

“Lata,” he blurts out, “he wants to see you.” His eyes dart to where Obi stands. “Both of you.”

“Well, well,” Obi mutters, arms crossed over his chest. “Looks like the piper wants to be paid, huh?”

“I don’t mean to question your process, professor.” It’s trouble, the way his weapons’s stumpy little ponytail bounces against her neck, primly doing just that. “But isn’t there a better way to, er…assess our problem?”

“Is there?” With a flick of a switch, Training Room Two hums to life, every panel and floorboard turning from architecture to archenemy. The professor steps forward, narrowly missing the bladed pendulum that cuts behind his clasped hands, radiating both professional curiosity and super villainy. Ha, he would fit right in at Shibusen. "You may consider this the commentary period for this presentation, if you wish.”

“Well…” The kid’s voice strains over the whir of a passing saw blade. “Talking has always helped me to get to the meat of a problem…?”

Forzeno’s got the sort of face that would crack if it tried a smile, but as one corner of his mouth curls, baring the slightest glint of teeth, it manages a smirk just fine. “If talking were going to solve this problem of yours, you wouldn’t have had to come to me.”

“He’s got us there.”

Shirayuki spares him the most weary don’t-take-his-side glare, but he can’t help but notice there’s no plucky protest to follow or staunch little speech about the power of friendship. No, instead she just stares out over the classroom-turned-death trap and bites her cheek, like somehow this guy might have a point.

“I must admit, your situation is quite confounding.” Obi’s never seen someone looks so at ease standing in the eye of the storm, but Forzeno doesn’t even flinch as fire singes the air just to his left, missing him by inches. “If you were fundamentally incompatible, he would never have been able to wield you. And if skill was the issue, you would have never made it this far. Which can only mean that one of you is holding back.”

It’s an effort to keep his limbs relaxed, to keep his lean completely casual when his heart is already fluttering in his throat, each pound reminding him that he’s the problem here. That if he could just get his head under control then maybe—

“Holding back?” Shirayuki’s not a not a haughty head-toss type of girl like Kiki, but she doesn’t need to be, not when one wrinkle of her nose contains all the skepticism of a dozen sarcastic scoffs. “I understand how you might come around to that theory, Professor, but do you really think the training room is going to challenge us more than any of the kishin souls we’ve collected?”

“Of course not.” With an unholy shriek, a saw blade rips itself from the floor— followed by the pendulous edge of the swinging axe working free of its mount to brandish itself threateningly just at the edge of his sight. “That’s why I’ll be trying to kill you.”

There’s a moment of silence— long enough for a few blinks, maybe a breath— before Obi summons up a monumental amount of calm, considering, and says, “You know, I think he means it.”

Shirayuki’s got her mouth open, probably to say something to the tune of ‘duh, you think?’ only nicer, but there’s no time to talk, not when a support beam juts right up through the floor, sweeping her legs right out from underneath her. Or at least it would if his arm wasn’t already flung out, ready to receive her sleek, steely haft.

She falls into his hands with the ease of practice, warm and ready, like she’s meant to be there, and god, he needs to remember that this isn’t a permanent thing. This whole resonance stuff only matters because she’s got to be top of her game to play in the big leagues, which isn’t the level a meister like him is meant to be at, Death Scythe or not.

“Hey, old man!” Obi ducks under another free-range saw blade only to just barely deflect an arrow trap with Shirayuki’s blade. “I know this is a test and all, but” — an anvil drops right out of the rafters, shattering the floorboards next to him— “could you go a little easier on us, maybe?”

Forzeno chuckles, oddly loud for a room that’s belching more flames and whirring machines by the minute. “Terrible, just terrible. Is this the kind of students Shibusen puts out now?”

“What?” It’s embarrassing how much he’s panting, barely able to get a word out as he parries yet another poison dart, wincing at the kid’s muted oof. “The kind that don’t want to die?”

“No,” the professor scoffs, pride palpable even if Obi can’t get eyes on him, running around the room like this. “The kind that can’t keep up.”

A stream of fire blazes across Obi’s path, keeping him sandwiched between a rock— an actual, literal rock; falling so hard behind him he nearly flies off the floorboards— and a hard place. Or more like hot place, now that he eyes the scorch marks licking up the wall.

“How is he doing this?” he mutters, skirting around the charred hardwood only for an arrowhead to bury itself in the wall behind him. “It’s not like these are real weapons. There’s a reason they’re on switches!”

“I looked into him.” Of course you did. He nearly lets a laugh slip right out of him even as saw teeth nip at his heels— but Shirayuki’s reflection catches on her blade, hair shining just as bright as the gout of flame that nearly burns off his eyebrows, and Obi finds it hard enough not to trip over his own feet, let alone getting his tongue involved. “There’s no question, he’s the foremost researcher on resonance, but when it came to why he left Shibusen— well, it’s hard to figure out what’s reason and what’s rumor, but apparently he had some…far-fetched theories about what precisely was needed to resonate with a weapon.”

“What? Like their relationship?” Obi ducks around some debris, flinching as a knife embeds itself in the plaster behind him. “Thought everyone knew you had to match each other’s vibes or whatever. Have some sort of chemistry to start.”

“That’s the thing.” It’s a little hard to focus on theoreticals when she’s got that thoughtful look on, bare shoulder spanning across the curve of her blade, but the kid makes it easier when she says, “Lata Forzeno could match wavelengths with any weapon.”

“Any?” And here he is, not even managing the one. No wonder this guy’s so fucking smug. “Even you?”

“Reports say he managed my uncle.” It’s not an answer, not really, but it’s as good as he’s going to get when she’s got that focused gleam in her eyes. “But in his last paper he put forward that resonance wasn’t about a match of souls between weapon and wielder, but instead the ability of the meister to change their wavelength, no matter how close or how far it was from their original, er…rhythm, I guess.”

A piece of plaster crumbles onto his hair. “But it would still have to be sentient, wouldn’t it? Resonance requires soul.”

Her haft buzzes against his palms. “Does it?”

He stares down, fingers flexing against steel. “Are you trying to tell me he’s resonating with this whole training room?”

A circular saw whizzes over the scrap of ceiling he’s ducked behind, burying itself right beside the knife there, wiggling like a kid at the end of a leash. “Do you think there’s a better explanation?”

Saw teeth wiggle in the wall, like a little kid trying to push out one last tooth for the fairy, and he sighs. “You’ve got a point there.”

It might be just a theory, a bunch of citations strung together with coincidence and Shirayuki’s smarts, but if Forzeno’s really puppeteering this room of doom, then there’s plenty of better plans than running and hiding. Ones Obi’s about to suggest they try— right up until the chuck of ceiling at his back explodes into a shower of plaster.

“You two should have resonated by now.” It’s bad enough that the professor’s got them on the run, a line of arrows sprouting on Obi’s heels as he rolls out of the line of fire, but he’s got to sound disappointed too. Like they’re coming in under the curve on whatever little test this gauntlet is putting them through. “Not letting me chase you into a corner.”

“Didn’t we already tell you?” Obi yelps, Shirayuki’s spin deflecting the chunk of plaster hurtling toward them. “We can’t do that. That’s the whole reason you’re— shit!” He ducks another fountain of flame, grimacing at the smell of burnt hair. “Here!”

Forzeno must be running out of toys to play with; the blade buried in the wall trembles, sending a shower of paint and drywall crumbling to the floor. Still, it’s stuck in there deep, groaning and shivering as the professor tries to ease it out, and well — it’s not the best opening Obi’s seen, but it’s the first one the professor’s given them.

He may not have muscles like Mitsuhide, but what Obi lacks in strength he makes up for in speed and surprise, running up that clean corridor of classroom to take his swing. The kid puts her whole heft into it too; lighter in his hand but blade weighted to swing, turning a solid slash into one that could probably carve a car in half—

And Forzeno blocks it. Doesn’t even bother to look at them when he does it too, like they’re nothing more than flies buzzing in his ears. “You see? Sloppy. If I couldn’t sense how many souls you’re holding, I’d think you’d only just been assigned partners.”

It’s casual, the way the rubble careens toward them; an afterthought. Obi gets his guard up— gets Shirayuki up— but her spin only splits the thing, setting one piece sailing past, and another close enough to clip him. Pain spikes just above his eye, warmth blooming right at his hairline before it starts to wend its way down—

“Obi!” Shirayuki’s haft jumps in his hands, pleasantly cool turning to flesh-warm. “Are you—?”

“See, already the problems show themselves.” Forzeno’s sigh is Obi’s only warning before he takes a foot to the chest, skittering across the floor until his spine hits the paneling with a crunch. “A weapon should keep her focus on the fight. No wonder that witch sent your souls scattering to the four winds.”

“Oh!” The kid’s reflection flushes, pink curling far past the curve of her blade, and haah, that’s really some information he didn’t need right now when it’s taking all his attention to keep breathing. “I’m sorry, I should be—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he grunts. “Fuck this guy anyway. He’s all talk. Just gotta…beat his ass. Then we’ll figure this out on our own.”

Forzeno snorts, his back already to them. “Not at the rate you’re going.”

His scythe shivers. “Obi, we don’t have to—”

“No.” He gets to his feet, sneezing out a bit of blood for good measure. “Let’s show this guy what we can do.”

If there’s one thing about Shirayuki, it’s that her soul’s not subtle; one deep breath and the rhythm of her soul is ringing in his head like a gong, as unmissable as it is unattainable. Oh, the first part always goes just fine, this slow dance and stretch, matching the whisper of his soul to her shout, the heat of his blending into hers, flames beginning to dance at the same beat—

And then that first whisper of physical touch sends his heart skittering, sending blood all the places he’d rather her not know about. But it’s impossible to keep it from her, not when she’ll be in his head like this— no, his heart, knowing every single skip and beat, his thoughts brushing against her own, shared, and—

A shove sends him stumbling back, tripping over his own feet, and Shirayuki tumbles into him. Not as a scythe, but a human girl, hair flying into his mouth as the weight of her has him over balance, his grip tugging, dragging—

And they land in a heap, just narrowly missing the jagged tooth of a saw blade sticking out from the floor.

“Well.” Lata approaches, hands on his hips. “That’s enough information for now.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #soul eater au #ans #fun fact this is where my rough draft for the 1st chapter ended #though i think i might have a couple of little scene bits for the parts after #where Lata starts diagnosing these kids and their stupid problems #namely that they're teenagers who can't be honest with themselves let alone with each other #both Obi and Shirayuki are about to be separately read for filth and it'll be great

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shirayukisredhair · 5 months ago

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Been slowly rotating chapter 136 in my head since it dropped and I know I’m not the only one.

I just need to talk about Shirayuki in this sceneeeee.

She obviously just stuck her neck out for Obi, like completely. Putting away her slight embarrassment knowing Obi heard everything, what we get is her trepidation. She’s treading so carefully. She knows Obi’s allergy to anything intimate like the back of her hand. She can sense something brewing inside him and quickly trades gawkishness for a cheery inviting smile

But uhhh him approaching her? She knows Obi so well, yes, but she doesn’t know how he will react in a situation like this. Normally he’d have cracked a joke and nipped any chance at intimacy in the bud. Clearly this is going to be different. Going to be new.

She is so so affected. How could she not be? This is brand new territory for both of them after establishing Their Norm years ago. She understands deeply how monumental this is, how vulnerable he’s being.

((The fact that they’re breaching new territory is why I especially adore the imagery of them approaching eachother, closing such a distance silently only to stop short of eachother, riiight at the precipice.))

…And she knows him well enough to speak his language. She hugs him back delicately as if not to alarm him, and immediately follows up with an Obi-ism, no doubt for his sake:

Lightening the atmosphere of an emotionally charged situation. He has closed the distance and she has reciprocated. She understands him. She accepts him.

This whole exchange just so beautifully illustrates the chemistry between these two and I’m just rly looking forward to seeing their dynamic shift with this development

#obiyuki

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glitterberry · 7 days ago

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Obiyuki

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #Obi #Shirayuki #this was supposed to be an exposure practice then it turned to a collage #my graphics

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halcyonfawn · 7 months ago

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A sloppy colouring because I got excited in the middle of the night.

In short, obiyuki fever. Again. We've got A HUG!!

#obiyuki #ans #ans colouring #manga colouring #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #shirayuki x obi

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realtacuardach · 8 days ago

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Deception

Here is my entry for the Obiyuki Madness 2025 @snowwhite-andtheknight (a week late *cough*): Trojan Prisoner.

...

Red splashed in a garish scar against the white snow as Fuun stumbled back, muttering curses through his teeth and clutching his bleeding side. He glared daggers at the target who stood in the center of the band of mercenaries, hands gripping his kunai like claws as his eyes darted with an almost savage speed among his opponents. The sliced cuff of one sleeve flapped in the brutal winter wind, but the rest of the man remained irritatingly unscathed. Meanwhile, all others in the scuffle were nursing cuts, pressing hands to bruises, or lying groaning in the snow. The mercenary spat in disgust, nearly dislodging the tooth the sole knight had so thoughtfully loosened.

“Now, now,” the leader of the mercenaries called (from the back, the coward), “is this necessary?”

The knight remained silent, only arching a brow in response. The leader continued. “Can’t we come to some sort of understanding?”

The knight’s face was set like flint, the only sign of emotion the fire glinting maliciously through his eyes.

“After all,” the leader put on an airy tone and examined the back of his filthy fingernails, “it would be a shame to leave your lady waiting.”

The stone mask twisted into a grimace of rage. “What?” the knight snarled. “Where is she? If you let your grimy hands anywhere near her, I swear–”

The knight lunged, and Fuun only just managed to swing the handle of his dagger into the back of his neck. Letting out a grunt, the knight fell to his knees and then slumped unceremoniously into the snow. Twirling the blade in his hand, Fuun lunged forward to –

“Wait.” The leader said, holding up an arm. “Don’t kill him.”

Fuun, frozen in place, only just managed to keep from stabbing the leader; instead, he slid the dagger with ill grace with the sheath at his hips. “Why?”

“He’s worth more than alive…for now,” the leader answered. “You see that uniform. He’s high rank. Think of the information we can get from him.”

The slice across Fuun’s abdomen pulsed violently, and his teeth clenched as he pressed against it. “I don’t think he’ll be willing to say much,” he muttered, the memory of the knight’s efficiently dangerous movements making him shudder unwillingly.

“Every man has his limit,” the leader replied. “A weakness. We just have to find it.”

He’d rather find the softest part of the man’s anatomy and drive his blad in, but conceded to the leader, venting his frustration by throwing the unconscious knight onto the nearest horse and grinning with satisfaction at how his head bounced against the horse’s flank.

“Easy, we don’t want him breaking his neck.”

“Speak for yourself,” Fuun grumbled, and led the horse onward.

~~~

After what seemed like hours, the band finally arrived at their base. The leader shoved Fuun towards the knight-laden horse and almost imperiously pointed to the upstairs room. The others left him to his fate, and Fuun had to bear the weight of the man who had sliced him open, and each step upstairs seemed to open his wound anew. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to finally relieve himself of his burden which he did with gusto, snorting with satisfaction at how the knight rolled into the wall.

The knight sagged to a stop, his head lolling so loosely to the side that Fuun thought he'd managed to get his revenge, albeit accidentally. But his chest continued to rise and fall as the door closed behind him.

Five minutes ticked by after he heard the door shut, and Obi's eyes slid open. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes sweeping the entirety of the room in hopes that he could see something useful. He sighed at the lack of incriminating evidence, although he sincerely doubting they were that stupid to leave him alone with such information, even if they were stupid enough to think he had actually been knocked out.

In fact, he was almost offended that they thought such a weak blow would be enough to take him out, but at least it worked in his favor.

He strained his wrists against the bindings, and felt them give slightly. Twisting his wrists mechanically, he peered around the room once more. Although he didn’t expect high-class accommodations, he was a little perturbed that the room was so bare: just a chair that they didn’t have the common tendency to tie him to, and a door with a lock that looked pitiful.

At least he didn’t have to waste the time hiking here, they’d been kind enough to do the legwork for him. After all, time was of the essence - Miss had been absolutely fuming and distraught about the reports of a mercenary band attacking caravans of medicinal herbs and leaving the drivers beaten and without the herbs the towns so desperately needed.

They had been trying to go through proper channels - which always took far too long and always had at least one - heaven help them - committee attached to them which made it take longer. Meanwhile, vendors were being attacked, and people were getting sicker. So Obi and his Miss had taken it into their own hands to speed up the process a little.

Besides saving his legs, if not his skull, getting himself captured gave him the chance to enter the base without having to waste time being sneaky. Determining which base was actually active also meant precious time wasted, as the countryside was littered with decaying, abandoned buildings that may or may not hold dangerous foes. The plight of the people had been weighing on him, but not nearly as much as Miss’ breath down his neck as she fretted and planned how to storm the area herself.

She was so smart, but so liable to throw herself into harm’s way.

So, he decided to do so first.

Besides, they had already slipped up in the past when trying to follow the mercenaries, and her beautiful hair was so distinctive that it had definitely left a lasting impression on them.

He tested the tightness of his bonds again, and felt them give way. Sighing with relief, he pulled his hands free and flexed his fingers before reaching for his kunai. Obi sliced cleanly through the cords binding his feet together, and stood up, flexing his feet tentatively and feeling the joints pop. Stepping lightly, he made his way to the door and snorted at the lock before breaking it with a quick jolt.

Whatever they were spending their ill-gotten gains on, Obi mused as he crept silently about the top floor, it certainly wasn’t on their security.

He passed through the corridor silently, glancing through each of the rooms he passed. He’d made his way past a room of snoring mercenaries, a room with tables, mismatched chairs, and half-empty liquor bottles, two rooms heaped with bundles of bedding, cloth, and miscellaneous clutter, and one room filled with daggers, swords, and other weapons.

Obi took a few moments to open the window of the weapons room, and threw as many blades as he could into the surrounding trees. He was thinking ahead…and also got a jolt of smirking pleasure at the thought of those mercenaries dangling precariously from the branches, waving their arms to retrieve them.

The door at the very end of the room had a slightly more robust lock: it took two jolts for it to swing open with a traitorous creaking. Obi paused, craning his head to the side to listen for any approaching footsteps. The only thing he could hear was an especially loud snore from down the hallway. Obi suppressed a chuckle – after all, he was a professional – and slipped inside.

The familiar earthy smell of herbs filled his nose, and Obi grinned with satisfaction. Told you we’d find it, Miss, he mused to himself. We have all the proof we need. Now we just need to get Master to-

Faint steps from the base of the staircase reached his ears and he stiffened. He crouched low to the ground, and peered through the open door, to see the shadows of at least three men, two crouched as though bearing something heavy, cast and bob across the earthen floor. Hooking his fingers beneath the bottom edge of the door, Obi pulled it quickly closed, hoping the slight squeak would be covered up by the droning snores. He could fight his way out if he had to, but he’d prefer not to. Miss would already be mad about the bruise forming at the back of his neck, he didn’t want to have to explain any other injuries to her.

You promised you’d be careful, Obi. He could hear her voice just in the back of his mind, and he smiled. He’d see her soon enough.

A displeased grunt came from down the hallway, and Obi smirked and winced simultaneously. They’d figured out that he’d left. As much as he liked the idea of them befuddled and angry, it would make it that much trickier to get out. Wind whistled against the building, and Obi remembered how easily the window in the weapons room swung open. It wasn’t that high off the ground, and he just had to sneak past one room to get there. It was by far the quickest, less Miss-scold-inducing option.

He edged the door open with an elbow, hands gripping his kunai just in case, and peered down the corridor. The three must have been sulking in the empty room, wringing their hands at their sad lot. Obi smirked and crept down the hall.

“He’s gone,” he could hear the mercenary who’d carried him growl. “Where the hell did he go?”

The leader hummed thoughtfully. “He won’t get far.”

Obi’s smirk grew. Little did they know–

“And if he does, well,” the leader continued, “this little lady should be able to tell us everything we need to know.”

Little lady. Ice shot through his veins and he stumbled despite himself. No.

Self-preservation beckoned him towards the window. As usual, he stifled it. He slipped past the weapons room, past the storerooms, past the snoring mercenaries, and peeked into the room where they’d attempted to confine him. His heart leapt into his throat, choking him.

There, slumped on the floor, between the leader and one of his cronies was his beautiful Miss. He gripped his kunai so tightly he felt his knuckles pop, and his eyes scanned anxiously over her. He could see a bruise blossoming on her forehead and he gritted his teeth in rage; however, she seemed almost asleep rather than wincing in pain. So hopefully, hopefully, they hadn’t hurt her anywhere else.

And they wouldn’t have the chance to.

He stepped forward, knowing he had no more space to creep, knowing he had to get to her quickly. The leader turned and smirked. “Ah, there you are.”

The casual tone heightened Obi’s rage and made his very skin crawl. “Step away from her.”

“Is that any way to talk to us?”

“Step away from her,” Obi gritted, “now.”

“Fuun,” the leader called smoothly.

With a flash of silver, Fuun had ducked down and held a blade against Miss’ throat. Obi stopped in his tracks and cursed himself and Fuun and himself again. He’d showed his weakness too clearly.

Then again, they’d known it from the start.

“What do you want?” He stated, eyes pulling away from Miss with an effort to stare at the man daring to hold her life in his hands.

“Information. But first,” the leader crooned, “I want you on your knees.”

Pride rankled, but Obi didn’t hesitate. He slid to his knees, moving that much closer to Miss, and musing about how quickly he could break the man named Fuun’s wrist so he couldn’t hold that cursed blade any longer.

“That’s better. Now,” the leader leaned forward. “How did you find us?”

“You brought me here.” Obi just managed to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

“Fuun.”

Fuun dragged the blade of the dagger smoothly across the smooth skin of Miss’ throat, too lightly to cut but only just. A bead of blood welled at the end of the arc.

Obi lunged forward despite himself, and was shoved back by the leader. “It’s a shame that you value your secrets and your pride more than your woman. Are you trying to get her killed?”

“Bastard,” Obi gritted out.

“Temper, temper.” The leader said. “How much good will your woman be to you without her neck?”

The words drawled lasciviously across his tongue, and Obi gripped his hands so tightly that they drew blood. “I got lucky. And you left evidence of your involvement all over the place.”

The leader shook his head. “So, we got sloppy. Well, you learn something new every day. Today, I have learned not to leave loose ends. And what better time to start than now?”

He gestured Fuun forward. The man let Miss go, and she fell to the floor in a heap. Any fiber in his body screamed to go to her, but he restrained himself. Once the two got close enough to him, he could take them both by surprise. Any slash or stab he got in the process was an injury his Miss wouldn’t have to endure. Then he could grab her and they could–

Fuun kicked him firmly in the back of his knees, sending him sprawling forward. Placing a knee squarely in the middle of his back, the mercenary smirked as he pressed the breath out of Obi’s lungs. The leader grabbed the hair at the back of Obi’s crown and yanked his head upwards. “If you have nothing more to share, I’m afraid you’re just a loose end. But don’t worry,” he leaned downwards, his stinking breath fogging into Obi’s face, “we’ll take good care of your woman.”

Red hot rage filled Obi, and he tried to shake Fuun off of his back but he couldn’t catch enough breath, and the rage and lack of air caused his vision to waver. All he could see was the faces of the two scum holding him down and red flashing before his vision. The red spread higher and higher, and then–

A dull metallic thud echoed through the room, swiftly followed by a dull grunt, and the leader slumped to the side. Fuun let out a sound of surprise, before a second metallic thud echoed and the mercenary sprawled over Obi’s back. Obi rolled to the side, dislodging the man, and sat up, head ringing as blessedly cool but somewhat foul air filled his lungs. He looked up and saw the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

His Miss, holding a shield over her shoulder, ready to administer another blow if needed.

“Miss,” he wheezed.

“Obi,” she whispered, putting down the shield to let her hands run over his side, assessing for damage.

“I thought,” Obi said, appreciating the touch and the assurance that she was in fact alive, “that you were going to wait for me.”

“You took too long,” Miss replied without shame, “and I got worried.”

Obi stood up and took her hand, pulling her along to the doorway. “One of these days, Miss, you are going to be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” Miss countered. “I prefer you alive.”

In the belly of a mercenary base was not the best place to demonstrate how much he echoed that sentiment, and he was a professional. But he promised himself, as they crept down the stairs and made a break for the castle, as soon as she was safe, he was going to show her.

In spades.

#obiyukimadness25 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #trojan prisoner #makes it to finish line #by which I mean #I stumbled across the finish line #and then rolled down a slope Princess-Bride style

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