The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

Returning to the encampment made Haruki feel as though the outing with Lanling had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. If not for his friends and a few soldiers who persistently pestered him about the events of that day, he might have believed it never happened at all.

The following seven days were a whirlwind of activity as the army prepared for their final confrontation with the Black Pythons. It felt like a small miracle that Lanling and Haruki still found time to share breakfast together despite their busy schedules.

While Lanling was constantly on the move, seemingly never touching the ground, Haruki spent each day pushing himself to his limits in the training grounds. His goal was to match the regular soldiers' level before the war began. He hadn't forgotten his bold proclamation to Lanling—that he would become his perfect knight.

Falling in battle before fulfilling that promise would be too great a shame to bear.

Haruki's tenacity had become evident over the past few days. Soldiers who once envied his luck now respected his determination. Effort, after all, was something no one could resist admiring.

Each evening, Haruki returned to his tent broken and battered, only to rise the next morning and eagerly sit next to Lanling at breakfast. There, he would recount his daily efforts in enthusiastic detail. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he always felt like Lanling genuinely looked forward to hearing his stories.

It had been another ordinary day, but that night, Haruki found his emotions in turmoil once again. The faint scent of citrus lingered in his tent, stirring something restless within him.

Alarmed, Haruki searched his tent for the source of the faint citrus scent and found that it was all over the place. Realizing he was likely being targeted again, he slipped through the folds of his tent and quickly arrived at Lanling's bed—benefiting from the convenience of their tents being next to each other.

"Psst, Lanling~" Haruki whispered softly toward the bed.

In the darkness, he saw Lanling's silhouette stir, and his heart inexplicably began to race.

Improper thoughts briefly flitted through his mind, making him scold himself harshly. Now's not the time!

The movement stopped, and a deep, low version of Lanling's voice broke the silence.

"Haruki?"

The unexpected sound of his name sent Haruki into a fluster. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to regain his composure before sneaking closer to the bed.

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered back.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Haruki could make out Lanling leaning against his arm, his faintly glowing eyes fixed on him with curious intensity, following his every movement.

"It's the middle of the night, and you're in my tent?" Lanling whispered, his tone tinged with amusement.

Haruki gasped, panic overtaking him as he waved his hand frantically. "I-I am not a pervert! I have a legitimate reason for being here!" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, his mind too frazzled to think straight.

A familiar chuckle escaped Lanling, sending Haruki's heart on another marathon.

"How secretive do you want to be?" Lanling teased, his voice warm and low. "Should I keep the lights off?"

"L-Lanling! My general! Please don't tease me! This is urgent!" Haruki stammered, his tone a mixture of desperation and embarrassment.

Their whispered exchange seemed to disturb the guards outside, as the sound of shifting armor startled them both.

"General? Did you call for us?" one of the guards asked but his question was only met with silence.

Haruki and Lanling froze, holding their breath until, after a few tense moments, the guards returned to their post. Both of them let out a sigh of relief.

"What happened?"

Lanling's tone was languid, but the teasing edge had disappeared. Resting his cheek against his right hand, he gazed at Haruki with quiet patience.

"It's my tent," Haruki began, his flustered heart finally settling. "I smell that citrus potion everywhere."

Lanling's brow lifted slightly as he listened.

"I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find the source. The scent is faint. If my sleeping habits weren't strange, I might not have even noticed it."

"Oh?" Lanling's calm voice carried a hint of intrigue as he emphasized the question. "How do you sleep?"

Haruki's cheeks warmed at the question, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't as if his sleeping position was particularly embarrassing.

"I—I like to bury my head in the pillow," he admitted reluctantly. "And the citrus scent was all over it. Not just that, but my blanket and even my newly washed clothes."

Silence lingered between them as Lanling appeared deep in thought.

"I don't think I can follow the thoughts of our enemies this time," Lanling murmured, his gaze narrowing in concentration. "Why would they want to provoke your anger? What triggers you, and how would that benefit them?"

As he spoke, Lanling sat up in bed, his piercing gaze fixed on Haruki, who knelt by his side.

Haruki visibly gulped before hesitantly offering his theory. "It's a far-fetched thought, but... if I get angry, would that affect you?"

Lanling's expression briefly faltered, startled by the question.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Lanling opened his mouth to speak—only to close it again.

Finally, he nodded, his voice soft yet resolute. "If you directed that anger toward me, I would surely be affected."

The deep, low timbre of his voice, softened into a whisper, sent a tremor through Haruki's core. Without thinking, Haruki reached out, tenderly grasping Lanling's left hand between his own.

"I don't believe there will ever come a day when I'm angry at you," Haruki said earnestly, his voice trembling slightly. "But if that day did come, then I must have been possessed."

Lanling stared at him for a moment before shaking his head, a faint yet enigmatic smile ghosting across his lips.

"You don't know what will happen in the future," Lanling replied evenly. "And you can't change the fact that, if it happens, I will most likely be affected."

A gentle pat on Haruki's hand drew his gaze back to Lanling, and for a moment, Haruki felt the warmth of that gesture seep into his heart.

"But that's not what's important right now," Lanling continued, his tone firm yet calm. A spark of mischief glinted in his eyes as his lips curved upward slightly. "Since their ultimate goal is still me, let's give them a show, shall we?"