KINTSUGI ⊳jin sakai x yuna

にじゅうろく (twenty six)

"Samurai. Wake up." A hand on his shoulder causes Jin to stir out of his sleep. When he opens his eyes, he sees Benjiro, crouching in front of him, face illuminated in the moonlight. He looks a little better now, more rested. "It's midnight."

Jin had been having a strange dream — the voices of his uncle, Ryuzo and the Khan had all mashed into one formless being that was chasing him through a bamboo forest. He doesn't know what to make of it, and frankly, he doesn't want to make anything of it. His back hurts — he had fallen asleep on the ground, with his head rested against the log beside the campfire, Jin realizes. Beside Yuna. He can't remember what exactly happened, other than them talking and talking and talking until he felt somewhat doozy and decided to lay back. The rest is history, he supposes. Yuna lays beside him, one hand placed on his sternum, head on his shoulder. The thought of waking her almost hurts.

"Get ready," Jin tells the boy. "I'll be with you shortly."

"There's nothing I need to prepare. I have no weapons."

"Then prepare yourself," Jin advises, and, scoffing at his answer, Benjiro walks off.

It only takes a light shake of her shoulder for Yuna to awake with a sharp inhale.

"It's almost midnight," He tells her as she opens her eyes slowly. She tenses against him, back cracking as she lifts her shoulders. "We need to get ready and leave."

"I'll..." She stifles a yawn, then rubs at her eyes. "I'll gather the weapons. You prepare the horses."

—

"What's the deal with the woman and the Mamushi brothers?" Benjiro speaks up behind Jin. Yuna leads the way on Hotaru, and Kage is trying his best to keep up with the pace as he's now carrying two people. "She knew the camp like the back of her hand," The boy adds.

"It's not my place to tell you." Jin's answer is plain, but he doesn't even have to look at Benjiro to know he's frowning. "I'm just saving as many of my people as I can."

"Why?" The boy asks. It's obviously unusual to hear a samurai or a ronin care about peasants, much less slaves, Jin can see where Benjiro's curiosity comes from.

But he doesn't have to think twice about an explanation. "Because I swore to protect everyone on this island with my life."

A pause follows, filled only with the thundering of hooves.

"I don't want to ruin it for you, but," Benjiro speaks on a tone that isn't sarcastic, but rather half-angry. "You're not doing the greatest job."

"Have you seen any mongols outside of the slave camp so far?"

The boy gives a thoughtful hum. "No."

"Think about that."

Jin would never let it show, but the boy's words take him a second more than usual to shake off. Benjiro isn't wrong — there's still so much left to do. So many mongol outposts left to take out, so many criminals to kill.

But Jin cuts him some slack. Benjiro most likely hasn't seen the outside of the slave camp in months or years, there's no way he could have noticed that the number of mongols on the island had started to thin out, little by little.

Not like that would be the end of it, obviously. Even before the invasion, there had been so much injustice happening on the island. Jin had just never bothered to look with his own eyes; he'd chosen to believe his uncle's words. He had blindly eaten up every single lie: that the samurai had brought back order and that everything was in its place.

Foolish.

Yuna tugs on Hotaru's reins, easing her into a slow halt. Jin follows her example.

"Let's walk from here," She tells him, turning to glance at him and the boy over her shoulder. "We best not let them hear us coming."