KINTSUGI ⊳jin sakai x yuna

さんじゅうに (thirty two)

"Lord Sak— Jin! Yuna! Wake up!"

His mouth feels dryer than any papyrus he's ever written on. Jin hates being waken up now more than he ever did before. Sleep is scarce as it is, and he really cannot afford any other disturbances after his guilt finally does let him rest.

But he cares. More about others than himself, so he rises with a groan, as Yuna shifts away from him and stands up easily. His chest feels cold; empty.

"What's wrong, kid?" She asks, voice low and flat.

It's Benjiro that had come running into the shack. His eyes are opened wide with fear. "Michio's burning up a fever."

Yuna rubs at her face and eyes, then sets her hand on Benjiro's shoulder, tugging him with her. "Relax. I still have some honey and garlic left, that should help him feel better."

Benjiro doesn't follow her direction, only swallows visibly. "I already found it...and used it all up. I didn't want to wake you, and I remembered our father putting honey on our knees when we used to scrape them from playing outside. But Michio's not getting any better."

Yuna inhales, her previously slackened shoulders going tense. She shoots Jin a look, one of much more panic than what shows in her voice. "A fever doesn't disappear right away. How long ago did you use the honey and garlic?"

"A little after midnight, a few hours ago."

"And he showed no signs of improvement?"

Benjiro shakes his head. "No, he could speak to me before, at least a little, but now he can barely stay awake. And if he does, he keeps on blabbering nonsense, it's— I'm—" Yuna pushes past Benjiro gently, making her way outside. The boy only manages a stuttered exhale as he stares after her, then blinks slowly. "I'm sorry," He whispers, bringing his hands together, talking to no-one in particular as he cracks his knuckles. "I really tried to fix it by myself."

Jin takes a moment to arch his back and squeeze the muscles in his shoulders before getting up. He approaches Benjiro, his bare feet causing a dull thud against the old wooden floor with every step. He doesn't quite know what to do at first — putting a hand on the boy's shoulder would be much too solemn of a gesture just to get him to stop spiraling. And to be frank, Jin never liked adults touching him as a kid, not even the most paternal pats on the back. It felt condescending, because it almost never was out of affection, but rather out of control. A tap between the shoulders meant to keep his back straight. One on the forearm: Don't hold the sword like that. A slap on the wrist: Don't eat like you're starving.

It was a tool to instruct him how to act, and he didn't want Benjiro to feel like that. The poor kid had enough to worry about already. He didn't need to be chastised, he needed to be nudged in the right direction.

And words rarely send the wrong message if they're picked right.

"Asking for help is better than unwillingly doing damage." Jin tells him, and it's almost chilling how similar he sounds to...a father figure. He can't decide if it's Kazumasa, or Shimura, or even both. He just knows that the firmness in his tone is certainly not his, but drawn from someone else's. Only the subtle tone of gentleness hidden below it calms his nerves, because that is not taken from anyone. That trait is his alone. He's gentle because he's always wanted others to be gentle with him as a child. "You had every reason to wake us. I'm not mad, and neither is Yuna. Don't blame yourself for it. Let's see how we can help."

"Right." Benjiro lets his hands fall to his sides, he straightens up, then wipes at his eyes with his forearm. He hadn't been quite crying; but he looked to be quite on the verge of it. "Okay. Thank you."