A Good Deed Gone Unpunished

Mai Has A Day

Surprise! War sucked balls.

(This was not actually a surprise).

The air was dirtied with gunpowder and smoke no matter where Mai went. It made her eyes gritty, her throat raw. Screams and moans rippled through the air at all hours. The grass was drizzled with blood. Mai watched as men were carried to the back lines, stringy guts pooling in their fingers, throats struggling against rushes of blood, limbs dangling like snapped twigs. Ieyasu was running medical, barking orders with practiced precision.

Mai does whatever Ieyasu tells her to. Sutures, bandages, water. Yoshiki and Hinata, fully armored, trail behind. No words are exchanged. There's nothing to say.

She hates this. She hates this she hates this she hates this. Men are dying faster than she can get to them. Mai thought working in the fields would feel - not this awful. Of course she understood that war was violent and gory and stupid. The idea of saving lives seemed so appealing from the cushy palace, but in the field she had to force down bile as she dug needles through muddy skin to sew a sword wound shut.

It would be deluded to tell herself she was doing this to feel useful. Maybe when she started (fighting began a day ago even though it felt like a month), but now the only thing keeping her rooted in the calamity was thoughts of Mitsunari.

God, he would be so disappointed in her if she abandoned everyone now. He believed in her so much. He wanted to see her grow.

It had been a very long time since someone had believed in her longer than a week. Not because she was an orphan (although that didn't help), but because of her behavior. Back before they perfected her medication, she had the worst mood swings. Rage so hot all she could do was shriek. Frustration that manifested in ugly tears. Picking stupid fights for stupid reasons. It was a common side-effect of epilepsy medications.

That didn't make it any easier for people to deal with.

Mai tried to teach herself to calm down. All she managed was learning how to disassociate on command - the opposite of a healthy coping mechanism. She still does it sometimes, under stress or pain. It was Ms. Hakuai who taught her how to redirect, who swapped screaming for sewing.

It was Mitsunari who taught her this era wasn't all horror and struggle.

Mai never got to tell Ms. Hakuai what she meant to her. She never paid her back. She'd be damned if she let Mitsunari die without proving he wasn't wrong to believe in her.

When the sun set, the remaining soldiers limped back to the encampments. The good thing about Sengoku-era warefare was the lack of guerilla raids and nighttime fighting. There was a chance to regroup and recooperate.

"Princess, Lord Mitsunari has returned." Hinata pointed towards where Mitsunari was riding into camp. His horse's hooves were splattered with dried blood, but he looked untouched.

"Thanks, Hinata. Wait, when did I tell you to be on the lookout for Mitsunari?"

Hinata froze, a deer in the headlights. "I, I thought you two were, you know, in-" Yoshiki elbowed Hinata under the ribcage while maintaining an aggressively neutral expression. Hinata wheezed out the exact sound a deflating balloon makes.

Mai stared at the both of them. Stared some more. Stared longer. "Okay," she said. "Thanks. Why don't you two get yourselves some food? I'm going to talk to Mitsunari."

Hinata and Yoshiki bowed at her dismissal. As she walked away, Yoshiki leaned over to Hinata and muttered, "those two are the densest people I've ever seen."

"Mitsunari!" Mai waved at him, rushing over. She never managed to catch him before they left the castle; now they could finally catch up! Mitsunari turned a bit to look at her, frowned, and took a half-step back. Mai's confidence faltered as she approached, slowing from a skip to a stumble. "...Mitsunari?"