The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

The bath didn't take long.

Though it began with heart-pounding teasing and Haruki's vision was filled with Lanling's powerful muscles—the sharp cut of his mermaid line and those smooth, hairless legs—they somehow managed to clean themselves properly. They took turns scrubbing each other's backs before soaking for a few minutes longer in the tub.

In the end, Haruki still had no idea how he survived the whole ordeal—or how the clothes on his body had appeared. He sat in his usual seat, completely out of it, while the soft sounds of Lanling dressing up inevitably reached his ears.

After a moment, Lanling appeared in Haruki's line of sight, seated across from him in a loose white robe that made his pale skin seem almost translucent. It was the first time Haruki had seen him dressed in white.

And the image of the child's skin from his memories suddenly overlapped with Lanling's.

Haruki's heart skipped a beat.

His gaze drifted from Lanling's long eyelashes to his sky-blue eyes, then down to his reddened lips. A question lingered in his mind: if that dream had been a little less blurry, would he have recognized a younger version of Lanling?

The thought spiraled within him, only to be abruptly interrupted by a sharp pain in his head.

He massaged the bridge of his nose, hoping to ease the ache.

"Have some—it will help clear your mind."

A familiar teacup appeared before him. Though he had only missed one breakfast with Lanling, the sight of it stirred an unexpected wave of nostalgia. The urge to press the cup to his cheek and cry over how much he missed it was almost overwhelming.

With a cough, he reined in his silly thoughts and took a measured sip. It was chamomile.

Haruki's eyes were filled with concern as the events of the day resurfaced in his mind. Losing a third of the army was no small matter. Whatever their enemies had planned, it was bound to be disastrous once set in motion. And he feared that the Black Pythons would catch wind of the fact and use it to their advantage.

Lanling's decisiveness had been the right response.

It was the right way—but it had likely been painful.

"Are you okay?" Haruki cautiously asked.

Lanling paused, lifting the teacup with deliberate care.

"A normal occurrence. I eat betrayals for breakfast."

A sharp pain sliced through Haruki's heart. He could hear the bitterness and quiet resignation woven into Lanling's words. The more he tried to downplay the situation, the more Haruki felt an overwhelming urge to shield him from such pain.

But he knew he didn't have the strength.

It had only been recently that he could manage to last a round or two against the regular soldiers, and his control over his gift was still underdeveloped. He had a long way to go if he wanted to protect Lanling from all the storms life would throw at him.

The helplessness weighed on him, yet his body moved before his mind could stop it. In an instant, he was at Lanling's side.

Under Lanling's widened gaze, Haruki stretched out his arms, slowly pulling him into an embrace. Gently, he guided Lanling's head to rest against his chest.

His heart pounded wildly—surely Lanling could hear it—but the desire to comfort the person in his arms drowned out every other thought. His left hand moved instinctively to Lanling's head, fingers threading through his hair in soft, familiar strokes—It was silky, clearly well cared for.

The motion felt natural, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Occasionally, his hand lingered near Lanling's ear, gently massaging it before returning to the soothing rhythm.

Unbeknownst to him, his expression had softened, and he found himself gazing at Lanling with quiet affection.

"You don't have to hide yourself from me," he murmured. "You would still be you, no matter what."

Haruki had thousands of thoughts flickering through his mind. And all of them were about Lanling. His voice, his eyes, his laughter—they seemed etched into Haruki's heart like they had branded his very soul to forever remind him of how precious Lanling truly was.

In this moment, Haruki knew the words spilling from his lips weren't rehearsed or calculated. They were simply the truths buried deep within his heart.

Lanling would always be his Lanling...

How he longed to unveil all the memories hidden within and to never forget them again.

But the stillness of the moment was shattered as a sudden bright light pierced through the darkness of the tent, striking Haruki without warning. It was soundless and swift. Bringing about a searing pain that made him feel as if his mind were being torn apart, forcing him to the ground.

"Urgh—!"

Through the agony, Haruki could vaguely hear Lanling shouting his name. The sound was distant, muffled, yet desperate. He fought to focus, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Lanling's lips as they mouthed his name again and again.

"-ruki! Haruki, listen to me!"

A sharp gasp tore from Haruki as the sound of the world abruptly returned. His breath hitched as his disoriented gaze landed on Lanling's panic-stricken face. For the first time, a vulnerable look of dependence crossed Haruki's features, pleading silently for solace.

Lanling's face twisted in pain as he reached out, his hands trembling as they cupped Haruki's face with careful reverence.

"I beg you..." Lanling whispered, his voice breaking. "Stop thinking."

The world seemed to vividly shape itself around Lanling, pulling Haruki back to reality.

"Focus on the present," Lanling urged, his voice trembling as he fought to steady it. "Focus on my voice, the sounds of the night, the noises in the army... The feeling of the ground beneath you and the wind raging around us."

Haruki concentrated, following Lanling's every word. Only then did he notice the chaos around him: the winds rattling the cabinets, overturning chairs and tables. Yet, amidst their wild fury, it was as if the winds consciously avoided harming Lanling, moving around him with a strange, deliberate care.

Then, Lanling's voice broke, trembling as he fought to suppress a cry of despair.

"Don't try to remember the past anymore..."