KINTSUGI ⊳jin sakai x yuna

じゅうご (fifteen)

Jin knows it's as useless as asking a bear not to maul him, but he hangs onto his last string of hope when he speaks.

"We don't want to fight you." Yuna stands behind him; he can hear her breath stutter. Whether it's from the cold, adrenaline, or fear, remains unknown.

He's never been the best at negotiating, but he knows how to stand his ground. The samurai seem unmoved, but he feels like it's his duty to continue. "The mongols have done enough damage." He adds firmly. "Let us be on our way, and we will do you no harm." Talking to statues might have proven more productive.

All is silent, and Katsuro smiles like a fox. "You doing us harm? If I'd known the Ghost was a lunatic—"

A bowstring creaks behind him, and an arrow whistles beside his ear. It's so close that for a moment Jin fears he has been the one that was shot — but no. Katsuro tips over from the force of the shot that digs itself into his shoulder.

Yuna knows the rules of fighting without honor better than he does: Strike first, die last.

She charges forward, towards where Katsuro had dropped his sword. She picks it out of the snow easily. Jumping to his son's defense, Katsuro's father strikes Yuna with his katana. She lifts the sword just in time to redirect his blow, but almost drops it in the process.

He doesn't get to see more than that. Jin barely avoids a stab from another samurai. Two men circle him like hungry crows around a corpse. One of them is young, features strikingly similar to Katsuro, most likely his brother, and the other seems to have a slight limp in his step.

He remembers one of them mentioning that their uncle had been hurt when he had just joined that — the older man must be him.

Jin begins with a heavy attack aimed at the enemy that's closest, but it gets deflected with matching force. In spite of his limp, the man's defense is steel-like. Crushing it like he usually does is out of the question — going around it will be the only option.

Snow crunches behind him, Jin turns around just in time to parry another samurai's sword. He's fought multiple enemies before, sure, but mongols don't even come close to trained soldiers from the mainland.

A sidestep is not enough to fool them, or at least not unless it's placed at the perfect angle in the perfect moment. But it's enough to get out of their attacks as unscathed as possible.

Skill, circumstance and luck all align to create Jin's first significant strike. It's enough to take out one of his enemies. Not kill, but neutralize.

Jin's sword carves into the flesh of the older man's upper arm, and is met with the slight resistance of bone. The force he applies is enough to disfigure it: Like a piece of meat, two thirds of what his arm once was hang by a few tendons. He screams, clutching the gash with his other hand, watching blood pour onto the snow and melt it.

"You bastard!" The man shouts, first looking at Jin, then at Katsuro's twin, still stuck in his fighting stance, but unmoving. Frozen with disbelief, he holds out the katana in front of him. But Jin can see his fear in the way that the blade shakes. He uses that second of hesitation to his advantage, charging forward. He places a strong kick against one of the man's knees, causing him to drop down on all fours. Moving to stand behind him, Jin leans forward, sword over his throat. He'll finish off this one, then, come to Yuna's aid.

"Stop!"

At the sound of her strained voice, he does as he's told, looking up. Holding her up against him by her hair, Katsuro's father rests his tanto against her neck. Blood soaks her shirt on her left side, and it's spreading rapidly.

Shit.

Jin's stomach drops. "Let her go." He says, voice firm, even though he's feeling anything but. He can feel his own blood freeze. The samurai doesn't move, only frowns. "Let her go!" Jin demands again, but this time it's not a plea. It's a threat. Mimicking the way the man holds Yuna, he drags up Katsuro's twin by his hair as well, and pushes the katana closer against the young man's neck. "Or he dies."

"I barely know him." The middle aged samurai says. "He's just a ronin the shogun assigned to help us."

Then why does he look just like your son? Jin wants to ask, but he figures actions speak louder than words. With a force that's slow, but steady, he progressively presses the blade of his sword further into the neck of the young man. Not enough to kill, but enough for blood to start trickling down the man's throat.

He never was good at negotiating, and he never knew he was this good at being ruthless with his own kind.

"Let her go...!" The young samurai pleads. His voice is hoars from the pressure of the sword against his neck. The man doesn't let go of Yuna, so Jin sees no reason to stop inching the blade further and further into his son's skin either. "Father, please."

It takes maybe five heartbeats more of hesitation, but he finally complies. Without a sound, Yuna is left to collapse onto the snow like a lifeless piece of meat.

Jin lets the sword fall away from the young man's throat, but not enough to stop being intimidating. It may not be a threat anymore, but it's still a warning. "Get your horses," Jin orders. "And leave."

They do, albeit much more slowly than he'd like them to. It's a dreadful task for the man with the injured arm to climb into the saddle. But once Jin deems them to have gone far enough, he lets go of Katsuro's twin and keeps a watchful eye on him as he leaves.

At a sob of pain, he whips his head around.

"Yuna!" His tone is surprisingly desperate, but hushed. Jin rushes towards her, dropping to his knees beside her form. Her teeth are clenched with pain, the snow on her left side has melted and mixed with blood. "I'm sorry," Jin says, moving her so that the back of her head head rests against his sternum. Her shoulder blades press against his thighs, red is now soaking his hakama.

Her shaky, blood slickened hand grabs a hold of his and places it atop the injury, on her ribs. "Press." She says, word turning into a pained hiss at the end. "Bandages." Yuna adds breathlessly.

"I left the bag tied to Kage's saddle." Jin tells her, though he's not sure wether it's to calm her or his nerves. He can't lose her, she's all that he has left, by the gods if she dies—

Jin whistles once, twice, and soon enough, he can see Kage and Hotaru approach. "I'll get us to Jogaku," he says. It's not a promise, and it could never be one, but he'd die trying to keep it. He can feel her form start to slacken against him, so he increases the pressure he's putting on the wound. She groans. "Stay awake, Yuna."

Please don't die.

Just as the horses slows to a trot beside him, Yuna's hisses turn silent. And this time, no amount of pressure, or even directly calling out her name elicits any kind of response.