5 Times the Love! (only if you want though!)
Warning: this is LOOOOOOOONG.
The fingers on that bow were weathered, dirty, and had a bit of dried blood on them. The hands of an outlaw. The hands of a survivor. She couldnât help but respect that; although likely of bluer blood than this worn adventurer, she had faced her share of brushes with death. Then again, she had chosen that way. This man surely hadnât. A thought flitted through her mind: why respect one who chooses to play with fire more than one whoâs thrown in headfirst?
Reina was old enough to remember the fall of Kohga. Her parents had once taken her to visit when she was a little girl. It was a beautiful country, its people warm and its lands as bountiful as Hoshidoâs, maybe more so. Later on, it had broken her heart to hear of its destruction by one Kotaro, but Kohga had had its revenge thanks to Kotaroâs last mistake. The images were brought to life again, however, while she did her laundry, as she heard Ashuraâs voice describing it to Corrin.Â
The images that she saw behind her eyelids every time she blinked were made more vivid thanks to Ashuraâs lush descriptions. This was a man who, maybe without even knowing it, had a way with words. Her apron nearly floated away as she lost herself in the forgotten land; she got some nasty bruises from slipping in the stream as she grabbed it, but she didnât begrudge Ashura one bit.
Reina was the second person Ashura sat with when he finally began eating in the mess hall. He was reticent at first, seeming to feel himself unworthy of eating in the mess hall with the rest of the army. However, upon mentioning some of the more⌠unsavory things she had had to do in Lady Mikotoâs name (and rest assured, there was dirty work) he opened up a bit. When she finally asked him about Kohga, explaining that she had heard through the grapevine of his origins, his eyes lit up.Â
Images flickered behind her eyelids when she blinked again, yes, but she wasnât blinking so much; she was too focused on the man in front of her. The eyes of a man who had seen much trouble, true⌠but also the eyes of a man with a dream, a dream that couldnât be killed no matter what he had seen. In a time of so many crushed dreams this was a thing of unrivaled beauty.
Go was never Reinaâs favorite game, but Ashura had proposed a game to her and she couldnât resist. She had gotten to know him better as their inevitable march toward Anankos had continued and she wanted to spend more time with him. She knew heâd probably pummel her in their game; she had never spent much time learning it, as she liked it even less than shogi. However, the conversation was sure to be interesting.
This probably wasnât supposed to be a game where they shared their life stories, but quite a bit more than expected slipped from Ashuraâs mouth. Then again, she could say the same of herself; she had explained everything she had told Corrin and then some, such as the time she came face-to-face with that brute Hans. (Oh, was she happy to see him dead.) They talked for hours after he had beaten her three games of go in a row.; between their banter and their reminiscing, there was no end in sight and she loved every minute.
The candle was nearly burnt down when they retreated to their respective barracks, and she didnât want to leave. What was that knot in her stomach? Why did sheâoh no. She had a knack for developing romantic feelings for people considered unacceptable for a woman of her standing: the first, while as noble as they come, was⌠technically off-limits, and now an adventurer from the long-lost nation of Kohga? It was not the same as last time, but it burned just as much of an imprint in her brain.
While Reina had never been one to stand on decorum beyond necessity, accidentally going into the hot springs during the menâs time was a bit too far for her, even if it was nearly the womenâs time. Even more awkward was who the sole other occupant of the hot springs was at that moment: Ashura. He had laughed a bit when she walked in; a blush had bloomed on her cheeks in milliseconds and she nearly ran for her life, fearing only that she might slip and break an arm. Wouldnât that be embarrassing, to break an arm in front of the man you love?
She went an even deeper red in response to her thoughts, almost missing Ashuraâs question for her: âHey, whatâs that from?â
When she got back into her right mind she realized that Ashura was pointing directly at a scar from an arrow on her abdomen; it was no more than a flesh wound and she was glad it hadnât hit her kinshi instead, but it still hurt like a son of aâ âYouâd ask a lady about her scars?â she teased.
The response was a laugh.
âI suppose I donât come across as a lady, do I?â She sat down in the hot springs. âScar story for scar story?â
They talked and talked until Orochi showed up and nearly sent a magical dragon at Ashura for still being in the hot springs. After being delayed a bit by some idle chatter from her fellow retainer she sought out the Kohgan again; for some reason she couldnât get enough of his company.
You love him, my evening mist, as you loved me. Itâs okay.
Her face blushed scarlet as she exited the hot springs. That voice⌠it wasnât wrong. She returned to the barracks and ignored her comrades asking her questions, even offering her concoctions. As she fell asleep she came to a conclusion: finish this war out and then act. If he feels the same way we can rebuild a thing of beauty together.
