Chapter 9 {Y/N}

That night I cannot sleep. Whenever I close my eyes the image of what happened during the day flashes behind my lids. The blood of the attackers splattering on the walls of the room. Their bodies lying on the floor. The man who slaughtered them all. His brutality chills me the most, as if he was a beast known only to murder.

Then leave, he had said.

I don't know why I didn't. He gave me the chance I was once seeking. To freely walk out, unscathed. He was letting me go. Now I wonder why does the thought of escaping not cross my mind at all while I was following him around in the city. The me before should took the chance. But the me now is slowly being trapped into the darker world of the shadow of his eye, the withdrawal of his lips. Past the icy facade of his hatred. I'm not sure if I'm trapped inside a place that truly existed.

I turn on my pillow and close my eyes. But sleep is far from coming. Even in the dark room, my eyes are wide awake. I sigh loudly and attempt to get up.

After I do I grab the blanket and toss it aside. And wince for the second time when the fabric touches my palm. I've asked the doctor in the infirmary for another clean yukata, which he kindly gave and suggested that he would treat my hand. I only thanked him and exited. Now there's a slight clean cut across my throat and a deeper one on my right hand. I didn't bother bandaging it up.

Thinking which more part of me would get sliced up next time, I slide the door aside and get out of the room. Might as well do something rather than stay cooped up.

The corridors are lightened at some parts. I walk through a familiar path, listening to some occasional noises throughout the ship. Then voices bloom somewhere nearby. I halt in the shadow. Two men exit from a room with metal doors ahead. I have a huge suspicion that it's where they operate the ship. Some fragments of their conversation drift to me as they go.

"...to departure..."

"...can't wait..."

I wait until they disappear to the left before moving forward. Pondering about what they could mean, I direct my steps to the staircase that leads up on the deck. Twice I've tried to reach this place and each time led me to a cell while another led a bullet through my heart. But tonight seems peaceful. It must be around midnight or later now.

Cool wind brushes against my face the minute I set foot on the deck. The sound of waves crashing the ship so soothing it's like a lullaby. The city lights up beyond. The illumination casts over the port and the ship by a small fraction. I glance up the velvet black sky. A waxing moon stares back. Stars wink like tiny jewels.

"Changed your mind?"

I jump at the voice.

I whirl to the direction of the forecastle. A silhouette. A person. A man. A heart that aches.

I come forth to him, gradually. Not because I'm cautious if the others are watching. I'm not afraid to have that night's occurrence happen again if I could just...look at him this way. The breeze dances around his clothes, his hair. His back turned to me. A back so intimidating when faced with those he does not trust. But in this moment when there is no witness it is so small, insignificant, and yet so profound in solitude.

In sorrow.

I stop at a distance where I can behold him. The dimness of the night will never be enough to hinder us. "Does the commander not rest even after his crews retired?"

He exhales deeply. Smoke rises upward and disperses above us. "And then there's the person who is not one of his crews," he says without glancing back.

"I, too, am officially accepted by one of his men," I remark. I remove my hesitance and move to stand beside him. For some minutes we gaze at the cadence of the tides, at black water extending along the shore as far as the eye can see. I do not mind the silence. And soon I forget that I'm standing near a rebel. Just a man, who in turn I cannot forget.

"What did you come here for, anyway?" He blows out another puff of smoke. I catch the slight sweetness from it.

When I look at him my heart pulls at the gaze that he's already giving me. I break the contact and eye the ground. For all the seemingly never-ending sleepless nights I have been searching for an answer to the same question. It may have started off as an interest to see him, but now anyone can tell it's different.

"I don't know." I look at the cut on my hand. "But don't tell me to leave just yet. I can watch over the ship for you while you're away," I say cheerfully, bile raising up my throat. "You're going somewhere right? I overheard it from your crews just now."

"More or less." I wipe my eyes and turn to him. He reaches into his chest pocket. For one moment I believe he's going to end me right here until he withdraws out a book.

I realize a moment later that the book actually belongs to me. I've taken it out of my clothes when I changed into the garments I burrowed from Otose-san. I completely forgot about it. Someone must have had given it to him while I was unconscious.

Shinsuke hands me the book. "Do you like to read?" he asks after I flip over the few pages. It's a personal note I like to keep to remind myself what books to buy.

"Yes," I mutter. "Yes I do. Thank you." He continues to stare out at the horizon. The gusts turn colder as the night grew deeper. If I can, there is nothing more I desire than to stay by him until the sky tinges with dawn. But the chill seeps into my body and awakens my wound to throb. While not only that, being this close to him yet unable to touch him is as cruel as reaching for something beyond reach.

Perhaps one day. One day I will reach behind the shadow of his eye. That day isn't tonight.

I turn from the forecastle. "If you're going away, buy me some books, would you? It'll help keep my mind off worries."

I smile at his side-glance, knowing fully well how foolish I'm being.

~~~~~~~~

The next day I wake to a chatter just outside my door.

I blink the blur of sleep away and try to sit up. The constant hum of pain in my chest is becoming something usual for me. I either grow accustomed to it or the wound has healed a little for me to get up without a sharp intake of breath.

The chatter still continues on in front of the room. I soon realize that they're not just passing by but rather standing guard by the door.

"Commander's traveling with the Harusame I heard," says one man at the left.

The other one replies. "No wonder Bansai-sama left a few of us back in the ship. I can't believe we're here guarding an empty vessel while the others go wild on the battlefield. And to make it worse, Matako-san assigned us to guard to this girl."

I have to say it isn't that surprising of that girl. She has to think of something up to fault me when there's given opportunity. Nevertheless I haven't thought of the group going somewhere, wrecking chaos, without their headquarter to regroup. And from what the men spoke, Bansai must be the tall man. I wonder if the Harusame is another rebelling organization.

It's going to get quiet for awhile. I take the book that man gave me the night before from under the pillow. Drowning in the reverie of last night's event, I almost fail to notice when the door to the room opens.

A man stands by the door, accompanied by the other two leaning on either side. The man in the middle looks at me, holding a tray of food. Come to think of it it's already noon now. I quickly get up.

"For god's sake, here isn't some free-meal hotel," says the man at the right.

I ignore his comment and accept the food. "Thank you." When my meal giver goes away I want to tell the other two to quit guarding, but stop myself. The more I speak the lesser they're likely to trust me. I suppose they'll learn eventually that I'm not a threat.

I close the door, shutting off their scowl, before coming to sit on the matted floor. My stomach rumbles at the smell of food. I feast upon it like a half-starved creature.

After I finish, a burp escapes my mouth before I can stop it. I cover my lips and glance to the door, hoping they haven't heard. When I slide the door aside for the second time I'm met with two annoyed looks.

"Can I take this back to the kitchen?" I ask them, though not sure why I bother. One of them flicks his wrist as if I'm some fly. Swallowing an urge to shove the empty dishes to his face, I head to the kitchen.

The ship does indeed feel empty. There's only the low buzz of the vessel moving. The destination no longer becomes a concern of mine.

"Thank you very much for the meal every time, shefu-san," I say to the chef in the kitchen. He turns from the sink. Seeing me he smiles a bit.

"Don't worry about it." He moves aside to let me wash the dishes.

"I appreciate your food so much, though I never expect to even be allowed to drink. Considering how everyone thinks of me."

He wipes the countertop and says with a shrug, "Well I've heard certain things about you, but nobody's spoken anything about not giving you food. You seem pretty harmless to me."

I chuckle. "Finally someone believes me."

Afterwards when I return to my room there's some fuss going about the door. The ones guarding are now looking into the room, and then going inside. I peek in from the door. And stare in shock at what the men are doing.

Someone with western clothes is installing a shelf at a corner of the room. The furniture is white and towers over his height. On the floor are some zigzag items wrapped in several black plastic bags. My futon is toss sadly to a side, out of their way.

One of the crews guarding me lowers to one particular bag and untie the knot. The content leaks out and spills to the floor. I gape with a open mouth at the pile of books. The man frowns upon seeing them before proceeding to undo the rest of the packages.

Books. All new books with plastic wrappers.

The men grumble to each other about the sudden pamphlets. I walk in, not believing I'm what seeing. I can't imagine how much those cost, not to mention the polished wooden shelve.

"What are these-?"

They all turn at my question. "What? Can't you see?" one of them says.

"No, I mean..." I point to the pile at their feet.

"I was told to deliver them to this room," says the one with western clothes. I don't think he's one of the crews here. They start to pack the shelf with the books while I stand, staring at the process. There's a thought at the back of my head, but I tell myself that it's not possible. But the sight in front of me is real.

"What's this?" One of the guards holds up a something like a piece of paper. He turns it around before throwing it on the books, which are now lined and occupy most of the space in the shelf. The men leave without another word and shuts the door.

I look at the rows of books, not daring to believe it. That man actually listens to my wishes. I was half joking around last night in the hopes to enlighten the mood. A laugh suddenly bubbles up my throat. I go closer for inspection and realize that some of the books contain the collection I've written down on my note. My smile deepens as I reach for the piece of paper the guy threw in one of the rows.

It's a blank paper. The thickness of it seems to result from two sheets pressed together. There seems to be a shadow between it. I pry the papers apart, careful to not rip it. It's like they've been stuck with glue. I pull apart the sheets and see that on one of them contains a short text.

Enjoy your books while I destroy the world.

I read the passage twice, not believing what I'm seeing once again. A strange sensation grips over my chest.

I don't understand at all what that man is thinking. But as I behold the beautiful items before me, I think that he doesn't quite understand too.