Your Father's Daughter || Mizu x Fem! Reader || ||Blue Eye Samurai ||

Chapter 10

The tunnel they took you down was cold and dark, dimly lit by the torches the soldiers held in their hands as they dragged you all further and further along. Light drops of water echoed in the caves alongside the footsteps and breathing of the men. They didn't bother to untie you when they lifted you from the horse, throwing you over one of the men's shoulders as they began to walk. You tried to catch a few glimpses of your surroundings, but could barely lift your head with the way they moved, but you managed. A nervous apprentice walked a few paces behind you, his face contorted with anxiety and unease. Just a few paces behind him was his master. Face dark with little to no emotion on display.

The smell hit you before the sight did. The scent of odorous bodies that haven't bathed in a long time. You could smell the misery in the air. Rotten food. Distraught. A slight hint of death. The sound of people groaning, coughing up mucus, muffling their tears. It became eerily silent when the first soldiers entered the room. Only their heavy shoes marching on the cold ground was heard. You heard keys ring, steel slide across the floor, and the grunt of the samurai and his apprentice as their bodies hit the ground. When the soldier holding you turned, you were able to see the other side of the prison you were in. The woman's side.

Young and old. Beaten and bruised. Sharing the air while a few held onto their final breath. The women who were captured walking the path outside your fathers project. The young girls who tagged along probably followed their mothers, fathers, family, friends. Unknowing of the dangers of torture ahead. Their living conditions were beyond cruel. Dried blood on their clothes and on the floor. Some of the women used ripped clothes to bandage themselves, bruises and wounds from who knows where. Parts of their skin blotched with purple and blue. Flies replaced where jewelry should have been, decorating the bodies of the dead. Whimpers and cries came from behind the bars as some women comforted one another. A few isolated themselves in darker corners, too broken to accept the touch of comfort. The sight turned your stomach. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The soldiers were given the instructions to get rid of anyone who crossed that path. To remove them swiftly and quietly, like your father had instructed. A quick death would have been kinder than this.

Realization settled deep within your gut, sinking to the bottom like a heavy rock in a pool. Your eyes widened, and you glanced from side to side. Your body began to tremble, and the man gripped you tighter, thinking you were wiggling to escape. This prison was going to be yours. They were going to place you in here with the abused and tortured women to pick like fruit and leave half eaten left to rot, juices seeping from the exits of your body. Beaten for entertainment and pleasure. They were going to remind you what it meant to be a woman in a world like this and since they didn't recognize you, you didn't have the protection of your father. You were truly alone, left in the hands of men more wicked than beasts. A starving wolf would have been more gentle.

A steel door was opened and you quickly met the ground, air blown out from your lungs on impact. Once the dust settled, you quickly looked up and caught them shutting the door and twisting the key to lock you all inside. The women were across from you on the opposite side. You shifted your body to sit upright, glancing around. Had they mistaken you? Or maybe this was their way of keeping you out of their selection of toys? Someone was on your side. Maybe it was your father's doing.

You didn't let relief wash over you too quickly, as the men's side was still rough. Beaten, resting, or dead but even the dead were left to die with their dignity. Flies decorated the prison from the rotting bodies and the smell was stronger now that you were inside.

In the corner, the samurai and his apprentice settled quietly. Ringo's face was painted with the colors of concern and worry as he held his nubs close together. He too was shaking, held frozen in fear. He kept glancing at his master, who sat quiet and distant. You made eye contact, and if you thought he didn't enjoy you before, he most definitely despised you now. Whether he knew this was a planned set up that backfired, or just a matter of unfortunate circumstances it did not change anything. They were here because of you. This was your fault. You could read the blame in his eyes.

You held eyes with him. You'd meet his fire with your own. Nothing about this man was frightening to you, and now you were on the same level. You both were trapped, and in dangerous circumstances. You more than anyone else. If this was luck, that luck soon would run out the longer you're kept here and you couldn't have the men suspecting anything. This man didn't have to worry about that. You were on your own.

"I said move to the back!" A voice boomed from behind the bars. Turning your head quickly, you realized you didn't hear the guard speaking to you. Now he was red in the face, shouting down at you while arranging the keys in his hands. He thought you were ignoring him and was going to come in here to correct your misbehavior himself.

Hands grabbed at the ropes that still binded you, dragging you backwards across the dirt ground of the prison. You kicked and flailed your feet, lifting your head to see it was the samurai.

"Sorry, he's hard of hearing, " He dragged you away from the gate, throwing your back to the wall.

"And slow." he finished.

"Hmph." The guard, seeming satisfied with how you were roughly handled for your disobedience, left it at that. Tucking away his keys, he marched back to the rest of his soldiers.

Your dizzy vision was beginning to clear as the samurai returned back to his spot in the corner next to you.

"I do not appreciate you throwing me around like a sack of rocks." You hissed.

"It would be in your best interest to find some appreciation." He shot back.

"You're right-untie me so I can thank you properly."

"Keep your voice down." He spoke directly in your face now, his eyes boring into yours and silencing you. "Do you not see the situation you're in? Do you really want to argue? Do you want them to hear you?"

The worst part about you being forced into silence was that he was right. You had nothing to return back to him. You were only safe for so long and even though you weren't on the other side, eventually you would be figured out. If they realized you didn't sound like a boy, they would eventually realize you weren't. You looked around the depressing cell, taking it in once again. The samurai was right, and you hated that.

What you hated even more was the fact that he was playing into it. "He" the samurai said before throwing you into the wall, and when you pulled back into your memory you remembered the samurai saying "He" for you on the way into the tunnel though you thought it was for his apprentice. You thought about it and realized he had said something along the lines of "Don't untie him." before he was struck and forced ahead. He had already planted in their minds that you were a young man, protecting you from the realities of being a woman in the wrong hands. This was the samurai's doing. And for what? You had put them in this situation. He knew that. What good did it bring him to keep you out of harm's way?

Your initial thought was he was holding it over your head. You owed him now technically. At any moment he could turn you in, revealing your identity and throwing you to the hungry mouths of predators craving new flesh and blood to rip and tear into. He could say he didn't know you were a girl. He could put your life in danger at any moment, and if you weren't careful he could do it right now.

These anxieties circled your mind and yet another thought slipped in behind. Creeping up behind the angrier, scarier one. If he wanted you in danger, he would have done something already. Though he was rough with you the whole trip, he never made the intention to harm you. He didn't beat you along the way, or force himself on you, he didn't even stop his apprentice from fixating on feeding you when he could have starved you for answers. Though he wasn't the kindest, you were starting to realize he wasn't cruel. He could throw you in right now. Why didn't he? Why did he care to conceal your identity for you? Either thought could be a possibility, and yet you couldn't figure it out. He confused you, and you didn't appreciate that. If he wasn't an onryo, he was still a man and what man wasn't cruel by nature?

You turned your attention to the samurai. You met eyes now, your (E/C) with his blues. Studying each other with a focused glare. His dark brows furrowed, and you could see the crease of stress between them as bloody sweat dripped down his face from the bruise. Where they struck him for speaking for you. He then let out a sigh, letting his head rest on the wall behind him and shut his eyes.