Work Text
Megumi is just a simple girl when the words of war reach her village. Her father is old, a shell of himself after Megumis mother passed during her birth. It doesn’t take long for the whispers of war to manifest into generals of the emperor to arrive at their village. Ever family must send a son.
Toji has two daughters - Tuskimi and Megumi. He will go.
Tsukimi cries the entire night after the emperors men leave. Their father is in no condition to fight, he will not return from this war. It will leave them without a parent, without any family. They will be truly alone.
The idea starts as a small itch. Guilt running wild. Megumi is the reason their mother is dead. If it weren’t for her Tsukimi would still have a mother. Toji would still have a wife.
As the day for her father to depart draws near, the small kindling festers into a roaring fire. This is her duty. This is the debt she owes them both.
Her hands are shaky as she cuts her long silky strands into an unruly mop of dark spikes. For the first time in her life Megumi is grateful for her flat chest, her small hips. Heart beating in her throat as she fastens the uniform, leaves behind her most treasured belongings and steals a horse before dawn can kiss the sky.
The journey to the Capitol is hard. Doubt gnawing like an unwelcome guest in Megumis heart, but the moment she steps past the imposing gates, registers for her family, she knows there is no turning back. This is her duty after all.
Training like a soldier is even harder. Fitting in with the hoards of men surrounding her near impossible. Each day is grueling, Megumi is used to labor, preparing for war is different. Intense. Unforgiving.
Days bleed into weeks and her fear at being found out settles. She can manage. That is until one of the emperors finest fighters visits their training camp. Send to challenge them 1:1 to determine how they are progressing, if the troops will be ready.
Forgotten fear suddenly beats like a rabbit behind her chest when it’s her turn. Eyes so deep and intense they almost look red settling on her. Tojis blade sits heavy in the palm of her hand, calloused after all these months.
Ryoumen is one of the best man of the emperor, and Megumi can’t argue with it when her head hits the dirty ground not even 2 minutes into their sparring match. Her lungs seize, struggling as his hulking form brings the wooden sword against her throat, leaning down, eye scrutinizing her.
Up close, it feels like he can see right through her. The sham of a lie she’s trying to live. The air crackles as she forces herself to hold eye contact, green clashing with red. She might have lost, but any good man’s pride would have them stare death in the eye.
A beat passes, then another, something flickers across Ryoumen features, something butterflies in her stomach, before he snarls at her, disgust crinkling his nose.
“Dead!”, he straightens, leaves her in the dirt, addresses the trainers, “these men are not ready for war! I’ve fucked whores with more spirit!”
It takes everything for Megumi not to freeze, not to make eye contact. He’s not talking to her.
He’s just a man talking amongst men. Uncouth.
He doesn’t know. Nobody knows.
The following weeks are brutal. The pace faster, the hours longer, more more more. They are being pushed to their limits and despite feeling like a walking corpse Megumi keeps catching glimpses of red eyes.
Eyes that frighten her in their intensity. Ryoumen cycles between the training groups, pushing the squad trainers to demand more. In another life Megumi would have swooned over the handsome man, sometimes, late at night when she’s in too much pain to sleep, she still does - but on the training grounds she fears him.
He’s strong, doesn’t pull any punches. She can’t afford to get knocked out and have her secret exposed. She can’t afford being too close and looking at him like any woman would look at a man like him. It’s already too much that she keeps finding his eyes watching her across the open fields, between their huts, at the dinner circle.
It’s a few nights before they departed on the campaign, the air too hot, that Megumi sneaks away to bathe. Usually she does the minimal freshing up with the other men, but she is itching to scrub herself clean, bask in a private moment before facing war and likely death.
The trek to the hot spring is nearly an hour, nothing but her nose and pale moonlight guiding her through the forrest.
The water feels like heaven on her skin. She scrubs at herself until she’s pink, rinsing the short dark strands in the water until her scalp can breathe again. When she comes up for air, she almost screams.
Ryoumen is standing by the edge of the water. Face unreadable, a casual hand resting on his blade.
Something in Megumi crumbles, claws and screams as she can’t help but imagine her punishment for the crime she’s committed. Lying to the emperor, stealing a horse, pretending to be a man.
Tears sit unwelcome and heavy behind her eyes as the tension mounts, she considers just drowning herself, washing away in the water. Never to be remembered.
“You had me doubting myself there”.
The tension breaks. Something glints in his eyes as confusion fills her mind.
But she doesn’t have to ask, Ryoumen sheds his uniform like liquid water, strong legs carrying him into the pool as Megumi averts her eyes.
She’s never…. Not even seen one. Toji always made sure of that.
His voice is soft when he sinks into the water to be level with her, “I’ve never wanted to fuck a man in my life”, a chuckle, a pause, “but lucky for me, you are just an imposter”.
At that Megumi raises her eyes, a fierceness in them, she’s spend months training for this! She’s not the greatest, but she’s good. She can hold her own, there are true men that are worse than her!
Ryoumen chuckles at the look she gives him, fingers gliding against her elbow under the water, before he speaks, effectively silencing the defense on the tip of her tongue.
“Tell me you don’t want this”, his eyes draw to her lips, “tell me I only imagined it the past weeks. Tell me I’m wrong”.
Megumi hesitates. She wants.
But she’s supposed to bring honor to her family, only whores sleep with man at hot springs like this.But she’s likely going to die, either in this war or as a punishment for her crime.
But but but… it doesn’t matter.
“You are not wrong”.
The connection of their lips is instantaneous. A spark traveling down her spine and making a home low in her stomach. Strong hands that encircle her waist, grab the back of her thighs to pull her closer, into him.
The gasp that escapes her as her most private parts brush his abdomen makes Ryoumen pause. Breathing heavy and eyes lidded, flitting over her face in a manner honed by years of training, observing, despite the dusting of his cheeks.
The question on the tip of his tongue hangs heavy between them, the night a canopy of insects and the rustling of branches in the wind. For once Megumi doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to be anyone other than two near strangers in this moment.
So she dips her head before softly initiating another kiss. His pace slows, wanting to conquer giving into wanting to savor. Megumi lets him, lets the weight of all her duty, responsibilities and decisions flow away with the water, as Ryoumen guides her.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s slow. Unhurried. Unlike her own, his hands are steady, sure. Face certain as he watches her through the act, brows drawn in a mix of pleasure and concentration. Megumi clings to him like a lifeline, shudders through her first wave of pleasure as her nails leave half moons on broad shoulders. She watches, mesmerized, as he succumbs to pleasure - because of her.
Ryoumen helps her dress. Face serious as he watches her tie her sword. He’s aware she’s committing a crime. He should turn her in - he needs to. His station requires it.
“My father is old, he has no son”, it’s a whisper, it feels like she’s bargaining, “my mother is dead - my sister deserves a parent”.
The silence that settles between them feels heavy. Megumi can’t meet his eyes, focusing instead on the soreness between her legs, her earlier embarrassment when he told her she needed to pee after sex. For her health.
Anything other than meeting his eyes.
“What’s your real name?”
She hesitates. The name Motoji a familiar blanket of disguise by now. Her real given name suddenly seems private, intimate, treasured.
“Megumi”. She omits the Fushiguro - he knows that. It’s how she registered for her family after all. The one small grain of truth in the elaborate lie. Something inside of her is itching to ask him for his own name, the private one that makes the man underneath the uniform. The man she had sex with - not the commanding official in charge.
But she remains silent.
“Megumi” her name sounds heavy on his tongue, like it carries meaning, “You should get some rest”, the breeze rustles her hair, “we march at dusk tomorrow - a surprise attack”.
While a weight lifts off her shoulders, he won’t turn her in, an invisible nooze ties around her neck - she’s going to war.
The bag with her supplies and belongings is heavy on her back as they march in neat rows, the sun disappearing behind the mountains as the air chills.
She hasn’t seen Ryoumen since last night, but she knows he must be at the front of the squadron. On horseback. Someone else carrying his belongings. Treatment deserving of his status.
In the daylight her decision to sleep with him, to give away her greatest possession, her virginity, seems less… romantic, smart, than it did in the darkness of the night.
He holds her secret and purity.
The internal conflict is enough to keep her distracted as they ascend the mountains. A shortcut to ambush the enemy days before their anticipated arrival. The knowledge that they are hours away from the first row of men dying sits like acid in her throat.
For a moment the world goes silent, all megumi can focus on is the fur boot, thick red blood coating the soft strands of hair. The limb severed from its owner, grotesque, random, in the middle of the battle field.
Someone grabs her by the shoulder, muscles her along as her ears continue ringing, they are screaming, motioning. Right. She has to keep moving. They have to keep going.
She rubs at the dried blood while she stares at her bowl filled with watery stew that night. Not enough water to bathe. Another march in two days, another battle just days after.
She survived. Numb. Shocked. Horrified. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever feel clean again. Her stomach in knots as she forces the food down, she needs her strength. The idea of never returning home, being left bleeding and unmoving, stiff and cold, to rott makes her want to cry.
Megumi wants to go home. She wants to hug Toji and apologize for her foolishness.
A small weight leaves her chest the next morning during count, she sees Ryoumen on his horse. He’s talking to someone, surveying the crowd of surviving troops. Something flips in her stomach when his eyes linger on her, she tries to decipher the look on his face but the sun is too high in the sky for her to see.
Like that, the days bleed into weeks, until time has no more meaning. Megumi doesn’t know how far they’ve walked, how often they set up and broke down camp. The smell of blood has settled into her bones. The only constant are red eyes and a black horse every few days - unaffected by the brutality of war, as if he’s shielded to the erosion threatening to wash away her soul.
She credits her survival with being quick, much more agile than many of the hulking men. They see her, a small unassuming village boy, short and fragile, and let their guard down.It’s the fall of snow that finally slows the pace. Too heavy to travel or fight. She sleeps, tries her best to ignore the stench of wounds that have festered, of man rotting to their death, freezing in their cots.
It’s late at night, her turn at guard duty, when someone comes to relief her in the middle of her shift - hair white as the surrounding snow.
“Ryoumen wants to see you”.
Megumi bows. Fights the sudden panic - has he told her secret?! Does this soldier know?
Taking measured steps across camp is hard, all Megumi wants to do is run. Sprint. Deep down the little girl in her heart wishes for a hug. The promise that everything will be alright.
His tent is large, clean, so much warmer than the poor excuse for shelter she inhabits with four other men.
The first thing that catches her eye is a large basin of steaming, clean water. Ryoumen is at a table, studying a map, wordless, motioning for her to clean up.
They are alone. She can scrub the dirt and grime and blood. Undress. Finally.
All shame forgotten Megumi sheds her clothes in a hurry, cold fingers soaking the washcloth in the heavenly hot water before she begins to scrub. She can feel his eyes on her, but her mind only has a singular goal - clean. Scrub. Frantic at first, but as the water grows brown she slows. She hasn’t felt this clean since they started marching - it’s a small peace of normalcy.
Ryoumen’s hand is warm when it settles on her abdomen, she’s gotten skinnier over the harsh months, just a small smidge of fat left, a stubborn reminder of how well feed she used to be.
He exhales harshly against her nape, towering over her from behind and Megumi has to suppress a shudder. Oh, how much she has longed for touch without pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Uh..? She falters, hesitates, tries to angle her head so she can catch his eyes. Figure out what he’s talking about.
As always he’s ahead of her, in tune with her in a manner that’s frightening. Quietly her subconscious whispers that he must be much more experienced, older, than her. There’s more pressure on her stomach now.
“You can’t be here while pregnant”, another deep exhale, suddenly the exhaustion of the past battles cling even to him, “Megumi”, forehead bowing against her small shoulder, “you should have never been here in the first place”.
Megumis ears are ringing. She’s not… she can’t! It’s just the last bit of fat clinging low to her stomach. All the women in her village always said, stomach fat was the hardest to get rid off!
She’s not. She can’t be….
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It takes a long time for the ringing in her ears to stop. When it finally does, the panic sets in.
Her family’s reputation.
Her reality of being at war.
Her father’s disappointment.
Her lie on the cusp of being shattered.
Somewhere mixed into this all is Ryoumen. Who by now has her wrapped in a clean blanket, looking at her with drawn eyebrows as she fights for air.
“You didn’t know”.
It’s not a question, big fat tears cling to hear lashes as she shakes her head anyway. She didn’t know. Didn’t even consider, so focused on making it to the next sunrise, the next meal, the next camp, the next, the next……
For a long time it’s silent, her sniffles filling the space between them before her brain, desperate to cling to anything else, fills the silence, “why did you want to see me?”
Before all ….this. Before they knew.
At that Ryoumen looks pained. A mirthless chuckle shaking his shoulders as dread settles in her bones. He’s never looked so defeated.
“I had a job I needed you to do”, a long exhale, “but that’s not important anymore. I’ll have to figure out how to get you home.”
She hesitates. A job? For her?
“Why me?”. They are surrounded by men more talented and strong than her.
Red eyes slide to her, the conflict between his drawn brows smooths into schooled professionalism, “sometimes you have to send a woman to do what an army of men never could”.
Oh.
Despite their dire situation something in Megumi warms. Ryoumen is conflicted between his obligation as a leader, to utilize every soldier, and his desire as a man for her, to keep her, them, save.
They all know this war it’s nearing its end, both sides exhausted. Desperate.
“I’ll do it”.
She needs to reclaim some honor. She owes it to the brothers she made along the way. Even if she is lying to them.
“No”. It’s instant. “You and my child will travel back to the Capitol to be safe and wait for my return”.
His child.
Nothing feels real anymore.
“You were going to ask me an hour ago, nothing has changed. I can still do it”.
It’s a weak argument, she doesn’t even know what it is he needs. Perhaps she also glosses over the depth of his words about waiting for him because girls like her don’t end of up with men like him.
“Megumi”, she almost startles when he cups her face, rests his forehead against her own, “everything has changed”.
The weight of the words hit Megumi like a sledgehammer. The only thing outweighing it is the deep shame of how she has dishonored her family by becoming pregnant and is now being send away from battle.
“I….” She hesitates, grasping for words, “please. Please let me do the task,…I … I need to bring honor to my family”.
Ryoumen looks conflicted, hand sliding to rest at her neck, thumb stroking her cheek.
“Please”, she swallows, “After….I’ll return to the Capitol as you asked to wait for you”.
It’s how she finds herself in a clean armor on horseback, the tree line and night shrouding them from the eyes of the troops as Ryoumen fastens the small flask of poison to her waste.
Uraume is already down the path waiting for her. Loyal to Ryoumen in a way that makes Megumi wonder the debt, the gratitude, they must owe him.
Her heart beats like a rabbit in her chest as green finds red. The silence deafening.
“If something goes wrong, you run. You do not put yourself in more danger. You don’t fight.”
She nods. “I’ll be there waiting for you”.
It’s a promise she might not be able to keep, they both know it, but Megumi states it like a fact.
Ryoumen gently grasps her chin, tilting her face into the pale moonlight shining between the trees. It takes Megumi a moment to realize that he’s trying to memorize her features.
Eventually his hand drops from her chin to her stomach, his eyes follow for a brief moment, before he draws his horse back, gently patting hers in the process to begin its journey south.
Megumi ignores the lump in her throat, as she catches up with a waiting Uraume she throws one last look over her shoulder.
Ryoumen is still there, atop his black horse, Megumi knows he’ll be watching until they are out of sight.
Silently she asks the gods that this won’t be the last time she sees him.
The first week is hard, the weather slowing their journey and freezing her to the bones. In desperate moments she wonders if she ever will be warm again. But as the weeks bleed together and they travel further south the temperatures rise, snow giving way to clear cold ground and naked trees. Their breaths no longer fogging the air.
They reach their destination on the tail-end of winter. The promise of spring already in the air on some days, a small sprout of hope blooming in her chest.
Uraume finds them accommodations and does the reconnaissance. Under strict orders from Ryoumen they refuse to tell Megumi who exactly it is. Just what she needs to know. A young man, with a long scare on his left cheek. Charming.
It takes less than a month for Uraume to report a pattern to Megumi. The market in the middle of the week, her traget frequents some of the smaller food stalls before waving some money and disappearing with a lady of the day into an Inn for some debauchery.
A task an army of a thousand men could not do.
Heart beating in her chest Megumi glides between the stalls, hair having grown past her shoulders since she first cut it before leaving her family’s home. Before beginning this charade.
The blade soaked in poison sits securely on the inside of her sleeve. After all these months it feels odd to be dressed like a woman again, the kimono hiding her condition.
It feels like a fever dream when after some time of walking between the vendors, green meets black. The man has a strong jawline, the long scar on his cheek calling to her like a beacon. His gaze already on her, assessing her fine clothes, the blush that dusts her cheeks, the smile that plays coyly on her lips.
In another life Tsukimi and her had giggled over how to flirt with men. Hanging on the lips of the old lady down the street who helped train young girls in preparation for meeting their matches. Their husbands.
With Ryoumen none of that had been possible. They were both men - at least to the public eye. In reality, none of it had been necessary. Whatever it was between them was like magnetism.
But this man, he smiles at her as she pretends to sneak shy glances, hides her smile behind a hand, plays the role of the good girl willing to break boundaries, toy with her families honor.
Megumi is grateful for the long sleeves hiding her shaking hands as she watches him draw near. He’s tall, not as imposing as Ryoumen, but taller than her nonetheless.
Right before he reaches her she disappears into the crowd, reappears a few steps down, smiling, luring him to follow her.
A song and dance. A hunt. A prize that must be earned.
With each time she evades him his eyes grow hungrier, she can all but see reason leave his mind, his ego driving him, spurring him on that he must win this chase. Megumi pauses before she dips into the ally, makes sure he sees her loosening her Kimono, does her best to smile seductively.
He’s on her as soon as he rounds the corner, away from prying eyes, she follows his lead. Let’s him grab the collar of her clothes, slides her hand into his hair as she angles up on her toes as if to bring their lips together.
Only to twist the knife with her free hand.
She keeps twisting, pushing, even as hot blood spills over her fingers, watches as first realization, then panic wash over his features before the poison takes effect.
It’s almost muscle memory when she sidesteps his sagging form, knife finding home again on the inside of her sleeve, before she steps back into the busy street. Disappearing between vendors and customers with leisurely steps, focusing on her breathing.
Calm. Measured. Slow.
She murdered a man in broad daylight.
Not for the first Megumi wonders who could tip the scales of war so far removed from the front lines.
The walk back to their Inn is slow, the urge to run clawing at her chest. A young man passes her, pulling a cart full of construction materials and she drops the knife in passing. By the time she turns the final corner Uraume is already waiting for her - both horses ready. A nod and then they are off.
Curiosity is nagging at her as they past the gates of the city and once they near the tree line Megumi breaks the silence.
“Who was it?”.
Uraume eyes her, face stoic as they continue their leisurely journey away from whatever crime she just committed for her country, the emperor.
For Ryoumen.
“The only son of the invading chieftain”.