KINTSUGI ⊳jin sakai x yuna

にじゅうさん (twenty three)

He'd like to think the Ghost can do just fine by himself, but that would be a lie. Jin is reliant on the ones he protects, and he realizes that now more than ever: riding back to the shack from Ichi's inn, two sacks of rice loaded onto Kage's back. Without the little people, he would starve. And without him, the Mongols would have gotten to most of them.

It's a back and forth that Jin hopes is fair, though he still feels guilty for buying the two sacks of rice from Ichi at half the price.

The good thing is that he has the cover of darkness still, and that he will most likely get back to the shack just in time — before dawn.

Yuna had insisted for him not to go, had suggested she would take care of it (which probably meant stealing, or going to Kushi temple to buy rice herself). One thing she did not seem to even take into account was going to Ichi for help a second time, and Jin decided not to pry.

But he also wasn't going to let her take care of their food supply, not when her wound had almost healed. The stitches would need to be removed any day now, why risk anything? He could do this simple task.

And the fact that his face was a little more recognizable than hers wasn't going to deter him either. Who could recognize Jin as the Ghost, except for the villagers in Omi? And the samurai he had fought with Yuna, who had now overtaken his estate? As long as he wasn't headed there, he'd be safe.

He's lucky Yuna had put away money throughout her years, even though it never got used for its intended purpose. They rely on that now. Jin knows it has got to hurt to spend it on the survival of who, about six months ago, had been a mere stranger to her. It hurts him as well, more than just a little, to know that he depends on her for this. It's another painful reminder that he has lost everything. Almost everything.

It also hurts to know that he will never get to live another day as carelessly as he had before. Some mornings, just as he awakes, Jin remembers nothing for a few seconds. He only stops to wonder why his muscles ache, why his throat is so dry, where he is. The moment everything comes flooding back is arguably worse than any nightmare, simply because he is confronted with the truth.

He is an outlaw.

"Fuck you, you bastards!" A boyish voice screams just as Jin and Kage reach the top of a small hill and start descending it. More shouting follows, mostly in Mongolian, and very little in Japanese.

In the distance, he can recognize a slim silhouette running, chased by two or three wider ones.

Someone needs help.

Without hesitation, he takes his bow in hand and sprints forward, leaving Kage behind. His trusty steed seems to know, in his own way, that he has to stay put and wait.

As Jin approaches and starts getting an increasingly clearer view of the source of the tumult, he recognizes a total of four silhouettes. A skinnier one leads the way at a pace that only desperation and fear could create, too tall and lanky to be a girl. And he's followed by three armor-clad men.

As he continues running, not aiming, he puts an arrow in place. An already loaded bow will buy him a few seconds, and time can very often be of essence in matters of life and death.

If he can just get a little closer, he'll be able to have a decent aim—

Chaos ensues. The armored mongols stop in their tracks at the sound of Jin's steps, as does the boy they had been chasing. He knows no enemy nor friend, only urgency. Almost dropping something round, about the size of a fist, he lights the object on fire, and throws it at the mongols.

An explosion follows, and Jin's heart skips a beat at the realization that he had left all his weapons at the shack except for his bow and katana.

No dirty tricks are at his disposal.

The mongol that's furthest away from the explosion and takes almost no damage is the one that Jin shoots down.

And that's the last of them.

In spite of its unexpected turns, this rescue mission has ended with success, Jin thinks. What follows after this is mere routine: comforting the victim, making sure they know where to go, how to get there—

"Stay away or I'll blow you up too!" The boy shouts, and Jin realizes that his voice sounds worn, as if he had been crying.

In the moonlight, the boy's skin looks incredibly pale, glistening with sweat, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, chest heaving under his ragged clothes. He doesn't look a day over sixteen.

"I'll do you no harm," Jin tells him, then puts his bow away slowly, as if to prove his point. "What's your name?"

"I'm—..." He draws in another labored breath, still very much in recovery from running. The boy then hesitates, and only speaks after a measuring, estimating look.  "Benjiro."

"Benjiro," Jin repeats, almost instinctively. Out of experience, he knows that calling a distressed person by their name helps calm them down, at least a little. "I'm...Jin. Where did you get those bombs?"

"I stole them. From the mongols. I wanted to blow them all up, to—" The boy heaves once again, still trying to catch his breath. While his chest rises and falls like crazy, he looks down at his own two hands, clenching his fists around the bomb and the flint. "To end it."

The mere assumption that killing the Khan would save anyone on this island had just been another distant dream. Jin's work is nowhere near being done, and that is, in a weird way, both the most discouraging and most encouraging realization of today.

"Where did they start chasing you?" He asks, keeping his voice firm. "I'll kill the rest of them."

The boy gives a dry, heaving laugh before he struggles to catch his breath again. "Hah, good luck with that, ronin. I escaped from Mamushi farmstead."

He ran from there all the way here?

Jin suppresses his surprise, decides to keep digging for information. When he and Yuna had first found the shack, he had told himself he would take care of the remaining mongols in the Mamushi farmstead. He hadn't yet. And now, or in a few days, could be a good time, especially since he has someone who knows the current state of it.

"Where are you headed?" Jin asks, and the boy looks at him like he's about to burst into tears again. But he gets a hold of himself before Jin can tell for sure.

"I didn't...think that far."

Damnit. Off just the top of his head, there are about three options he can think of where to take the boy. Kushi temple, a nearby survivor camp, or relatives. He doubts the final option even is an option, but he asks regardless.

"Is there anywhere I can take you? Do you have any family?"

"If he's still alive after this, then my only family is still in there." Benjiro says. "In the slave camp."

As if he had just realized that, the boy sets his hands on his thighs, looks down at the grass. By the way he inhales, Jin can tell he's holding back even another round of tears.

"Shit, he's still in there." With one hand, he covers his mouth, ashamed of the way his voice sounds, and turns away from Jin. "And I ran. I fucking ran."

That makes it two options. Unless, of course...

"Benjiro." He speaks up, which is enough to draw the boy's attention back to him. "We'll get your family out of there, you have my word. But you need to rest first. And then you need to help me think of a plan."

—

A shorter chapter which I hope wasn't too confusing. I figured I had let you guys catch your breath quite enough with those few fluffy chapters. We're back in business with the angst. Not that this chapter was very angsty, but I think you have a feeling about what's going to happen in the upcoming ones.