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

Chapter 12

A plan needed to be made as soon as possible. Between The blue eyed man, his apprentice,and you, there was one thing for sure that crossed all your minds. Escaping. Whether it was possible or not.

It took a few days for Ringo's wounds to heal. His skin found ways to stitch together, closing the gap for his open wounds. His scratches began to brown with scabs that grew over the dried blood. The black and blues that blotted his exposed skin were slowly beginning to return to his color. He could move without wincing so strongly. As soft as he was, he was tougher than he appeared. That brought you comfort that you weren't expecting.

Few words were shared between you three. Even less between the blue eyed man and you. From time to time, Ringo would bring a conversation to light. Commenting on the slops of food thrown in for the prisoners. Checking in on you, but most importantly checking in on his sword swinging master who sat quietly and kept himself unnoticed. You found that he became even more silent, almost invisible, the longer you stayed. He blended in with the walls of the cell, becoming one with the shadows that danced in corners of the room. He displayed an ability to disappear that was similar to yours. The way a mouse stays silent to avoid a house cat.

The soldiers did not come to the men's side often. Not like how they did with Ringo a few days ago. You assumed it was a moment of boredom where the only cure was to inflict harm upon someone who would possibly attempt to stand up to them. Beating submission into a man can be entertaining to some.

After a few days, you began to grow nervous. With the key in Ringo's possession there was hope, but there didn't seem to be an opening. There wasn't a set schedule you could study, the guards came in whatever time they felt. Even feeding time wasn't accurate as some days they wouldn't show. You knew better than to build a plan on an unstable foundation, but everyone was running out of time. You were running out of time.

It was the sound of boots first before the familiar key rings were heard from behind the heavy doors letting you know the guards were making an unscheduled stop today. Barely anyone reacted, the other prisoners staring ahead with no hope behind their eyes. You wondered how long they had all been here locked away in this dark, moldy cell. You wondered how long it would take for one of you to become like the rest.

You shot a quick glance at the man beside you. Silent, and watchful. His narrowed eyes now never left who you hadn't noticed before. He hasn't made an appearance since the day he called Ringo out of the cell and threw him back covered in bruises. The tall guard from before has made his return; strolling into the depressing atmosphere with an aura of nonchalant confidence. He was once again the biggest dog in the room, no matter the unfair circumstances. Two different guards accompanied him, but they held the same enabling spirit the other two had. Looking for his cruel approval in everything they did.

Here is where you shifted your energy. You knew two things about this man. He didn't appreciate being tested, and if you hid from him he would sniff you out like a hunter with its prey. It was wiser to hide in the open, and blend in enough to appear uninteresting to him. Blending in with the background was part of your skill, and making it look natural came easy as well. You weren't the wall, but the crack in the wall. It shouldn't be there, but it was so subtle that being there wasn't out of the ordinary. The same technique you used to slip in and out of crowds. A technique that only the blue eyed man was able to catch onto. You shot him a glance, and your eyes widened in slight shock.

His eyes never left the guards. They didn't lower in fear, but instead stayed locked onto the soldier. In this way, he was drawing attention to himself. Anxiety trickled through your veins, cold and chilling, until your skin lit up with goosebumps.

Glancing from side to side, the tall guard walked past the cell cages. His posture was laxed, and his face was beginning to form a bored sneer. The same bored sneer that appeared on his face before he spotted Ringo a few days ago. His eyes drifted from the woman's cells to the mens, and finally met with the cold blues sending him ice daggers from behind the metal bars. His sneer deepened before he put on a face of an unbotheredness; his brows settling on his forehead and his eyelids lowering into a relaxed position.