Always by Your Side: Chapter 8
An Akagami no Shirayuki-hime (Snow White with the Red Hair) Fanfic
The sun beats down on his shoulders, even filtered through the leaves, and he licks his dry lips. He’s not far from the pub, and he can already taste the lemonade he knows waits in the icebox. He tugs on the hem of his shirt, but sweat makes it cling to his chest and he makes a face. There are always clean clothes, waiting in the trunk in the attic for him, and he definitely needs them today.
He’s too relaxed, this close to the pub, too distracted, and it takes a while to realize how muted the village is. That the only people he sees are shadows in windows.
Icy fear pricks the back of his neck.
He usually sneaks in through the window, changing his clothes and washing up before slipping down into the bustle, waiting for wide, green eyes and a smile when she sees he’s back, but—
But the pub is too quiet. Almost empty, he’d guess, which doesn’t make sense when the sun is only just disappearing behind the trees. The door, usually wide open this time of day, squeals a loud protest when he pushes it.
For just a moment, he thinks the dark room is empty apart from the tables and chairs pushed out of the way. Even the bottles are missing from the shelves. Then he blinks, and slowly a chair appears in the corner, with a hunched figure in it.
She doesn’t move when he comes in, but her bent leg swings slightly, and something settles in his chest. When his shoes come into view, she startles slightly and looks up. “Oh. You’re h-here.”
You’re home, is what she usually says, sparking an argument about how homes like this aren’t made for people like him, but right now he’d give anything to hear her say it, to know he’s worried for nothing.
He kneels in front of her, or at least he tries to. It feels more like falling. His knees knock into a thick carpet bag. “What happened?”
“They’re—they’re gone.“ Her voice quivers like an arrow after it’s hit its target, just before the pain hits. “Oma and Opa.”
And there’s the pain he was expecting. Sharp and piercing, just through his heart. One day, he’ll get used to this, to everyone leaving, whether they want to or no.
“They left me the pub.” A single tear rolls down her cheek. “But—but I can’t—“ Her voice breaks, and her shoulders curl in. Never has he felt the three years between them more. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that she’s still only a child, but seeing her sitting here, curled in on herself, is a glaring reminder, and anger flares hot at the others who left her here, alone in the dark.
“Of course not,” he says, because all the other burning responses will only upset her more. “I’m sure they only meant it for you when you got older.” Or to sell, but he knows better than to suggest that.
She takes a deep, steadying breath, and there’s the girl he knows. The fighter, who pushes through whatever life throws at her. “I’m going to find my father.”
“In the mountains?” Just the thought nearly sends him into a panic. “But—“
“I can’t stay here,” she reminds him. “I don’t have anyone else.” She looks down and nudges her bag with her toe. “I have everything ready to leave. I was just waiting for you. I couldn’t just leave without telling you—“ She swallows.
His breath catches as he realizes what she’s saying. She waited here, alone, in pain, and surrounded by memories, for him. Just so he wouldn’t return to an empty house.
“I’m coming with you.”
Her lips part, just slightly, but her breath stutters, and he knows this isn’t what she expected. “You—“
“I’m coming.” He rocks forward and reaches up to tuck the hair that’s fallen in her face behind her ears. “I won’t leave you alone again. Not ever, I promise.”
Her eyes well with tears, and then she falls into his arms. Neither of them move for a long time.
One day, she will learn to lie properly.
Spending so much time with Obi and her father has to rub off on her eventually, right? But when Zen heard her blurt out, “Dad” to a rebel, he had questions and—she blanked.
Thankfully her father had been there to give half-truths and false apologies.
But now, finally free from Umihebi and safe again in the mountains, she itches to be done with the explanations, and to go find Obi, who she still hasn’t been since that brief moment in the cave. If the amused glances her father keeps throwing her are any indication, she doubts she’s hiding her impatience well.
“Sorry for making assumptions about you,” Kazuki mutters. “I usually hate nobility, but I guess I was wrong about you.”
That catches her attention, and she only just manages to keep her mouth from dropping open. Obi will never believe this.
“Well, I didn’t do anything to try to make you like me,” Zen chuckles, “But I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t say I liked you,” Kazuki says, and ah, that sounds more like him. “But you’re friends with Shirayuki.”
Her father starts to laugh, then stands up, grabbing Kazuki by the shoulder and dragging him away. “Come on. Time for dinner.”
“Oh, good. I’m hungry too,” Zen says, standing up. He holds out a hand to help her up, but she keeps both hands in her lap.
“Ah, actually there’s something I have to do first.”
He smiles. “I’ll save you a seat.”
The forest hangs dark around the Lions’ village, a warning to those who don’t know it’s secrets. Kazuki said Obi disappeared when they arrived, choosing not to join the celebrations. She knows he’s here somewhere, hidden in the shadows, so she leans against a trunk and waits.
A slight rustle of dirt betrays his arrival, and she smiles up at him. “There you are. I thought you would be celebrating. You certainly deserve it.”
Pain flickers across his face. “I deserve it? For letting them capture you? I deserve something, but it’s not celebrating.”
Ah. She should have seen this coming. She had thought the anger before was directed at the Claw, but why put the blame where it belongs when he can blame himself?
“It’s not your fault.” She pushes off the tree, forcing her way through the barrier he’s laid between them. “You couldn’t have known they would ambush us.”
A muscle ticks in his face, clearer than any verbal disagreement. Well. That’s fine. He can be stubborn if he wants. So can she.
“We need to talk about Clarines,” she says. “I know Dad wanted us to come back because of the Claw, but after today, I think he’s hoping we’ll go back to Clarines.”
“You’ll go,” Obi says.
The earth tilts under her feet and the rushing breeze feels so much colder than the weather should allow. “What?”
His eyes slip over her shoulder. “You should go. You’re in a better position, and Itoya or Yuuma can go with you. If you ask, I doubt the prince will deny you that—“
“Stop it.”
“I couldn’t protect you,” he plows on. “Either one of them will take better care—“
“No!”
He takes a step back, startled by her tone. She takes two steps forward. She won’t let him get away that easily. “No, this is your job, not mine, and if you don’t want it, then fine, but I’m not going back without you. I’m going wherever you go.”
His lips part, and he doesn’t take his eyes off her, as though she’ll disappear as soon as he looks away. “I couldn’t protect you,” he breathes. “I couldn’t—couldn’t keep my promise.”
“Yes, you did.”
His brows tick closer, just for a second before he smooths out the mask again. “No, I didn’t. I left you alone, again, and I—“
“You didn’t!” She steps forward, catching the fabric of his shirt in her hands. “You came for me. You kept your promise and came for me.”
His eyes squeeze shut, but his breath stutters out. He’s actually listening now, so she goes on. “I don’t want Itoya, or Yuuma, or anyone else. I just want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” His breath hitches. It’s—it’s too much. This has gone on long enough.
“Just to be completely clear—” she starts, but no more words come. That’s fine. She’s never been good with words anyway.
She surges up on her toes and kisses him. He sucks in a sharp breath, but responds instantly, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pulling her against him.
This—this is exactly what she’s wanted for so long. Obi, just Obi, so close he’s all she can sense. Her fingers slide up his neck and into his hair. He sighs against her lips, and—
She wants him closer. She wants him to hear all the words she couldn’t say in the press of her lips against his. I love you. I need you. I never want to let you go.
This is years of fondness and longing pressed into a single touch. His thumbs trace lazy circles on her arms and the rest of the world spins away. Somewhere, far far away, their family is having a party. She’s never been so glad to miss one.
“You shouldn’t,” he whispers when she breaks away, his hands dropping incongruously to her waist and drawing her closer. “You shouldn’t want me. You—you know the things I’ve done—“
“And you know me,” she reminds him as she runs her fingers through his hair, and he tilts into her touch, eyes falling shut. “An outlaw and an outlaw’s daughter. Seems pretty fitting, don’t you think?”
He hums. “It sounds too easy when you say it like that.”
“Good.” She slides her hands out of his hair and cups his chin, forcing him to look at her when he opens his eyes. “Because it is to me.”
His eyes widen and his mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead he tugs her closer to lean his forehead against hers.
“It’s easy to me too,” he whispers finally. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“There you are!” Kazuki slides into the chair beside him. “Why’d you stay away so long?”
Obi grabs the bottle and refills his glass. “I was avoiding you.” Kazuki splutters in outrage, and he takes a sip to cover his grin. It’s too easy to rile him up.
“I was going to say thanks for coming after us,” Kazuki grumbles, “But never mind, I guess.”
Obi nudges him with his elbow. “I heard you two nearly escaped on your own. Good job.”
“It was Shirayuki’s plan,” he says quickly, but Obi can see the pride on his face.
“Still.” Obi pours a glass. A small one—he doesn’t need bad habits at that age—and slides it over to him.
Kazuki takes it, but just stares down into it. “The prince is . . . strange.”
“Raj?” Obi laughs. “Sure, that’s one way to put it.”
“No, the other one.”
He doesn’t feel like laughing anymore. “Oh.”
“I don’t like him!” Kazuki rushes to say, as though that were ever a question, “He’s just . . . not what I expected.”
It’s almost a laugh, Obi thinks, the way air bursts from his lungs. “No, me neither.”
Kazuki tries to knock back his drink, but chokes and spills half of it. Biting back a laugh, Obi pours some more. He doesn’t meet Obi’s eyes as he sheepishly sips it. “He likes Shirayuki, doesn’t he?”
Obi grunts. A “yes” seems too simple, and he can’t think of anything else polite.
Kazuki casts him a sideways glance. “He doesn’t know you two are—“
Obi doesn’t know how he was planning to finish that sentence, and he doesn’t want to. Neither, he thinks, do Mitsuhide and Kiki, who are walking over to join them, so he kicks Kazuki’s leg to shut him up.
“Ah, here you are,” Mitsuhide says, sliding in across from Obi. “Shirayuki was looking for you earlier. Did she find you?”
Obi’s glad for the excuse the liquor in his glass provides to give only a hum in response.
“She was looking for you?” Kazuki’s a good actor when he wants to be. On anyone else, Obi would believe that childish innocence. “What did she want?”
Large hands clap against the table, and Obi stares up at Mukaze, surprised as always at his perfect timing. “Obi, is it?”
For an instant, he’s fifteen again, standing before the fabled Lions, with only the clasp of a freckled hand to protect him—
But that was years ago, and now he’s as much one of them as she is.
“Yeah.” He slumps back in his seat and cocks his head in that way that infuriates his prince. “Why?”
Mukaze raises an eyebrow, but he can see the amusement lingering in his eyes. He thinks it’s funny when his men are disrespectful. He’s the strangest boss Obi’s ever had.
“Itoya told me you were very helpful in tracking the Claw. We’ve had quite a bit of trouble from them lately, and I’d like to talk to you about your methods.”
As the prince’s man, he should ask permission, but his prince is conspicuously absent from the celebrations. Instead he casts a questioning glance at Mitsuhide, who blinks several times quickly. “What are you looking at me for?”
“Just go,” Kiki says, her voice as close to a laugh as he’s ever heard it. “Don’t get into any trouble.”
“Why, Princess Kiki, when have I ever—“
“Are you coming?” Mukaze interrupts, and Obi shrugs one shoulder before sliding out of his seat and following him to his cabin.
The door slides shut behind him, and he stretches out across one of the chairs, waiting for Mukaze to join him.
“Where’s the Prince?”
“Shirayuki’s keeping him out of the way,” Mukaze says. Jealousy flares, but he pushes it away. He shouldn’t be jealous—especially when he can still feel the warmth from her lips against his.
He stretches out, nearly touching the low ceiling, and sighs as the movement soothes his sore muscles.
“Maybe if you didn’t spend quite so much time in trees, you wouldn’t be so sore.” The reprimand is much more effective when Mukaze sinks slowly into his own chair with a groan.
The chair is much more comfortable than the bench, and he sinks further in it, draping his legs over the side. “Shirayuki complains about that enough, thank you.”
“Are you still sleeping in trees?”
Obi stiffens. Mukaze is well aware of where he sleeps when he’s not outdoors. It had prompted a brief but heated argument when he and Shirayuki first joined them. She’d told her father in no uncertain terms that he didn’t get to make her decisions for her, and that if he wanted the two of them to stay, they would be sharing a room. Obi’s sure the only reason Mukaze didn’t protest further is that Obi had been just as shocked by the pronouncement as him.
“No,” Obi says slowly, because Mukaze knows him too well to be fooled by a lie.
“Good.”
He sits up sharply and stares at the older man, who ignores him to pour two drinks. “You’ll regret it when you’re older, trust me.” He hands one glass to Obi, who wonders briefly if there’s something in it. Mukaze wouldn’t poison him, but beyond that, Obi’s not sure he trusts it.
He takes a cautious sip and chokes. He knew it. “What is this?”
Mukaze looks confused and takes a sip of his own glass—then spits it out and laughs. “Whoops. Forgot to put that bottle back after the prince left.”
Oh. So that wasn’t meant for him. “You gave the prince this?” He knows Mukaze has better liquor.
Mukaze grabs a new bottle and pours another couple glasses. “We’re only poor mountain folk, you know.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glances over, and Obi can’t help but laugh as he accepts the new glass and takes a sip.
“So when are you getting married?”
His lungs burn as he chokes and his eyes water. Mukaze just waits calmly for him to finish coughing.
“That’s not—“ the protest begins automatically, then cuts off as he remembers her words in the woods. You’re the only one I want.
“You know,” Mukaze says, “you’ve been living together long enough that in some cultures, you’d already be considered married.”
“Yes, well,” he clears his throat and tries to clear the rest of the burning. “In those cultures, a girl is considered old enough to get married at thirteen, so I don’t think they’re a good judge.”
Mukaze doesn’t laugh. He just sets down his glass and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That prince seems quite smitten with her. You two had better just get it done before he tries anything.”
Obi takes another sip of his drink, just to give him something to do. This was not the conversation he had been expecting when he walked in.
“I thought you wanted a report,” he mumbles into his glass.
“Oh, I want that too,” Mukaze says, snatching up his glass and slumping back into his chair. “I wasn’t expecting a prince to show up to rescue my daughter.” And Obi had unknowingly dragged two after him. “And certainly not both of them together.”
“It’s Shirayuki.” Obi shrugs. “You know how she is.” No one can help loving her. It’s the excuse he’s been giving himself for years.
“I do.” Mukaze runs a finger around the rim of his glass. “You think it doesn’t mean anything else? I talked to the Clarinese prince. From what he said, he would be interested in an alliance between our countries.”
That was the first Obi had heard of it, but it didn’t really surprise him. “If he said it, he meant it. He’s…annoyingly honest.” Mukaze chuckles, but Obi isn’t finished. “It’s the first prince we have to watch out for, though. He keeps his opinions to himself, and doesn’t trust me or Shirayuki.”
“Hmm.” Mukaze looks thoughtful, and Obi waits for him to take a sip before continuing.
“He thinks she’s scheming to become a princess.”
Now it’s Mukaze’s turn to choke, and Obi forces back a grin. Revenge is sweet.
“I don’t like this,” he says when he stops coughing. “I don’t like her being so involved.”
Obi says nothing. Mukaze already knows how he feels about it.
“What do you think?” he asks, and Obi doesn’t startle. Even after all these years, he’s still not used to being asked his opinion. “Would it be better for you to come home?”
Obi hesitates, tracing his fingers over the pattered fabric of the chair. “If it were just the second prince to worry about, I’d say we should go back to the pharmacy now that Prince Raj is no longer a problem, but if we both disappear, and into Tanburun no less…” The first prince is too smart and he would know something was up. Obi has seen his suspicion. He doesn’t want to see his vengeance.
“And also…” he trails off and glances at Mukaze, unsure how he’ll respond. “I think she wants to go back.”
They hadn’t discussed it, but he had seen how happy she was there, surrounded by the Prince, his aides, the other pharmacists. Besides, she’s never been one to leave a job half-finished.
Mukaze nods, unhappy, but unsurprised. “And what do you want?”
Obi opens his mouth to answer, but Mukaze cuts him off. “And don’t just say ‘whatever she does’. I know that already.”
Obi drops his gaze, embarrassed. “I…want to go back too.”
His prince is hopelessly naive and noble, living in a world where justice and loyalty actually mean something, and he knows the world doesn’t work like that, he knows it, but—
But it almost feels like it could, with his master.
“Okay.” The click of Mukaze’s empty glass punctuates the word. “Okay, I trust you kids, but if things turn south, I want you both out of there, whatever bridges you have to burn.”
Obi nods. “I understand.” The hard part would be making Shirayuki understand.
Mukaze just watches him for a moment, then waves his hand in a dismissal. “Off to bed with you. Your old room is empty. Let me know if you need some fresh clothes in the morning.”
Obi stands up, stretching again, before giving Mukaze a nod and slipping out of the old cabin.
He pauses outside the door to their room, listening for voices in case that’s where Shirayuki and the prince had gone, but he hears nothing, so he slips through the door, dropping the latch when he sees the figure already curled up in bed.
So much for keeping the prince occupied.
It’s strange to be back in this room. To see the shelves and window sill, bare without their potted plants and books, and the tiny holes in the walls where she’d tacked up her drawings and charts. Two hooks by the wall hang empty, where he’d hang his cowl and hat, and she her mother’s scarf.
The important things are in Clarines. The rest is probably still in the pharmacy, left behind in the rush to flee Prince Raj.
He crosses silently to the other side of the bed. Her borrowed dress lies on the tiny trunk they always had such a hard time stuffing their clothes into. He strips off his shirt and leaves it there as well, then slips under the covers.
“Oh,” she murmurs sleepily, and she snuggles closer to him. “You’re back.” Her head slots against his shoulder, and her lips brush against his chest every time they move. “You were gone a long time.”
He can’t help but smile as he pulls the blankets up to cover them both. “Not that long.” Her eyes don’t open, but she scrunches up her face, like she wants to argue.
“Go back to sleep,” he tells her. “We’ll talk in the morning.” Within minutes, she’s gone.
Next chapter coming soon!