overhead, casting them in a faint light—the ronin, and the noble they both loved—as the wind howled and night fell over Taiyo Daisuke’s final moments.
“Well.” The ronin’s quiet, weary voice was the first to break the silence. “Looks like you got your wish, peacock. That was one hell of a glorious death.”
Daisuke raised a trembling hand, clasping the ronin’s palm resting against his chest. “I am glad you’re here, Okame,” he breathed with his eyes still closed. “And I am...pleased that you will survive this. If one of us made it... I was hoping it would be you.”
But the ronin shook his head. “No,” he murmured in a resigned voice. “I’ve lost too much blood. And I’m pretty sure those knives were poisoned. Don’t worry, peacock.” A faint, rueful smirk tugged at one corner of his lip as he bowed his head. “I’m not about to break my promise. I’ll be following you soon enough.”
“Together then, after all,” Daisuke murmured, as the ronin’s free hand brushed a strand of bloody hair from his cheek. “No...regrets, Okame?”
“Regrets.” The ronin gave a soft chuckle. “Peacock, before I met you, Yumeko-chan and everyone else, I was a bandit and a ronin with no purpose in the world. I didn’t care about anything, because I thought there was nothing in this life worth caring for. Not honor, family, friends or empire.” The hint of a smile crossed his face, and he shook his head. “Then this impudent little fox girl gave me a second chance, and everything changed. I’ve been to places few mortals have ever seen. I’ve fought things straight out of the legend scrolls. And I’ve been a part of something far greater than anyone, especially an honorless ronin dog, could ever hope for.”
He paused, a shadow of pain going through his eyes for a moment, before it smoothed out again. “So no, peacock,” he sighed. “I have no regrets. If I never joined Yumeko that day, I would still be a worthless, wandering ronin with no goals, no friends and nothing redeemable about him. And I never would have seen Oni no Mikoto on the bridge that night and, for the first time, wished I could be something more.”
Daisuke’s arm lifted, and he pressed a palm against the ronin’s jaw. “You were...always something more to me,” he whispered, and Okame closed his eyes. “Do you think...they’ll tell stories of us, Okame?”
“I hope so,” the ronin choked out, pressing his own hand over Daisuke’s. “Or at least a tragic poem that will make everyone cry when they hear it.”
“I would like that,” Daisuke whispered. His eyes opened, peaceful and calm, gazing up at the sky. “I feel...warm,” he murmured. “Light. I think... I think it’s time, Okame.”
The ronin blinked, and a streak of moisture ran down his cheek as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to Daisuke’s. “Go on, then,” he whispered, smiling through the tears on his face. “You’ve earned it. And don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okame.” Suki could barely hear him now. The noble’s voice was a breath that the wind tore away and scattered over the sea. His eyes closed, and he sank further into the ronin’s arms. “I’ll...wait for you,” he whispered. “Don’t be...too long.”
His body slumped, and the hand still pressed against the ronin’s cheek slid away, dropping into his lap. The ronin let out a quiet breath and leaned back, gazing up at the sky. His dark eyes fell on Suki hovering overhead, and a faint smile crossed his face.
“Still hanging around, yurei?” he murmured, though it was mostly to himself. “I guess if we get lost on our way to Meido, we’ll at least have a guide. Oy, Suki-chan, wasn’t it?” the ronin went on, his eyes focusing on her. “If you see Yumeko again, tell her...thank you. For taking in a stray dog. She’s going to cry, but...we’ll see each other again. I don’t regret a thing. It was one hell of an adventure.”
He drew in a shuddering breath and sighed, as his eyes flickered shut. “Kuso,” he muttered, his voice growing fainter. “I wish... I could’ve seen the end. I hope you and Kage-san make it, Yumeko-chan. If not... I guess I’ll see you both soon