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Mariko was thankful there weren't as many casualties as the previous battles. But she did notice there were far more veteran soldiers. They didn't behave like the farmers or other men pressed into quick service by the Shadow Lord. The men were calm and well mannered for the most part. They didn't shy away from her touch as she tended to their wounds nor did they make much of a sound as the healer plied his grisly trade. Then she noticed Yasuhira had entered the ward and walked toward her. Instinctively she ran a hand across her temple to ensure a hair hadn't fallen out of place, but in doing so left a streak of blood across her skin. Yasuhira noticed what she had done and took a strip of cloth from one of the surgery tables, and a bucket of clean water that was near by. Mariko bowed at his approach. He said nothing and soaked the cloth through with water. Without being asked, Yasuhira reached out to Mariko to clean her of the blood. As could be expected the woman flinched.
"A moment, hime. You have regaled upon yourself an unfortunate layer of rouge."
Mariko laughed, more at herself for being so foolish. Still, considering her environment it was bound to happen. Yasuhira was gentle but thorough. In no time the woman was free from the blood, at least on her face.
"I'm sure I'll do that again, Tono."
"No doubt. But I felt compelled to act, hime."
"These are terrible days, Tono. It effects everything and everyone."
"Too true. So we must make every effort to ensure that what beauty there is can be seen unsullied."
Mariko ached. How his words pierced her heart. It was foolish of him to be so giving with her. She wished he didn't say such things. But at the same time, Mariko revelled in them. Like she told her husband he was magic. He was also merciful and moved on to other matters.
"How is our noble guest?"
Mariko turned her eye to a man sitting up against a far wall, "Lord Naishi is doing well, Tono. But his demeanour is a bit forlorn and is weary of anyone tending to him."
"I'm sure that doesn't include you, hime."
Mariko blushed but said nothing. Yasuhira handed her the soiled bandage and walked toward his Uncle. The man had watched his nephew speak to the woman and noticed how freely they seemed with each other. That had always been Yasu's way. He couldn't understand it. But then he was only half a Hikiji. Yasuhira came bearing his usual becoming smile, which always vexed Naishi, but also found it impossible not to smile back. That day, even after having his guts ripped out by the man, was no different. Yasu bowed to his uncle.
"Lord Naishi, I hope you are well."
"Well enough Lord Yasuhira."
He sat down next to him, "Well, I must admit this is a bit awkward."
Naishi squirmed, "To say the least. I can't help but wonder why I'm still alive."
"It was not by my design, Uncle. I well and truly wanted to kill you. But it seems those I tasked with aiding the wounded were a bit overzealous when they came upon you. As you had no armour or other markings indicating who you are, they took it upon themselves to return you to the land of the living," He shrugged, "I only noticed you were alive when I came to inspect the ward a few days ago." He smiled.
