Blossom

"Why are you helping me?"

Kazuki stopped his hand with the bloodied bandages in mid-air. He turned to Yoshiro and smiled, "Didn't I tell you, I'm a doctor, and I have duties—"

"You have an ulterior motive. I know that. What is it?"

Kazuki chuckled, "What should be my ulterior motive?" He continued to peel Yoshiro's bandages, but this time, forcefully, just to show his power over Yoshiro.

Yoshiro flinched and tried to shove Kazuki's hands, "Be gentle! It hurts—"

Kazuki grabbed Yoshiro's wrist, "Besides, Prince, if I had any ulterior motive, I wouldn't be telling you." He smirked at Yoshiro.

Yoshiro glared but said nothing. He bit his mouth and stopped himself from wincing in pain. Kazuki stripped the dirty bandages off as painful as he can.

After his wounds are exposed, he pushed Kazuki's hands. The man allowed it this time. He threw a smug look at Yoshiro as he disposed of the remaining bandages.

Yoshiro met the hostility with his glare. Kazuki found it a waste of time, glaring at each other, and instead crushed herbs in a mortar with a pestle. Yoshiro examined his wounds himself.

They were starting to dry up, although parts of his wounds still look like an egg yolk, soft and jelly but deep red. He groaned, "An infection." With a single poke or move, it could break and bleed again, so he chose to carefully move.

"It's just blood pooling on your skin. It's not an infection."

He thought over that and hesitatingly touched his wound. It broke into blood, which he scoped up with yesterday's clothes discarded near the bed. When the bleeding stopped, he saw his cuts but not an infection. He smiled, relieved.

His attention now turned to Kazuki. He watched as the man poured liquids into the mortar. He guessed the first one was water and the next was wine. He could smell the pungent, minty aroma permeating the air.

Kazuki looked at him through the corners of his eyes, "What?" and turned back to the mortar. He continued to grind it, then he dipped his fingers, scooped some of it, and rubbed it against both his fingers, checking if it was ready. He held the mortar and sat on the side of Yoshiro's bed. Yoshiro shifted a bit, avoiding the man's eyes.

"This might hurt, so please—"

"That doesn't matter."

Kazuki gave a slight smile, "Really? You winced while I removed the bandages off your body—"

"Shut up. Get it done."

He felt taken back by the rudeness but disregarded it. "Well, lay down. Let's start with the back, then."

He watched as Yoshiro struggled to lift himself up from the bed. He wanted to help but held himself back. Yoshiro was prideful. He watched the man undid his belt while his face tinted red. Yoshiro looked away, with his back towards him. His clothes rumpled and revealed his wounded back. He shivered a little when the cold air reached his skin.

Kazuki noticed that Yoshiro had many scars on his body even before this war, especially on his back. "These look like whip marks." He whispered, "Were you an unruly child when you were younger, Crown Prince?"

Yoshiro did not answer. He expected that. He continued with what he intended to do, scooping from the mortar and pressing it on Yoshiro's wounds.

Yoshiro stifled his groan.

"I told you it'll hurt. But it'll be good for your wounds. It may even reduce the chances of leaving a scar."

He watched the Prince's reaction and lightened the weight of his hand. The man stopped squirming. He still groaned every now and then but mainly seemed relaxed. He finished applying the ointment to his back and patted him on the shoulder.

"You're good. The ointment should speed up your recovery and now." He reached out for the bandages, "We have to cover..." He paused as he realized how Yoshiro had been staring at him.

Yoshiro finally noticed himself and turned his head away.

He pretended nothing happened. He continued, "I'll have to cover your wounds so you can have some semblance of comfort when you sleep on your back. It'll still sting a bit so," he paused and poured him a cup of tea, "Drink."

Yoshiro took the cup from him with two hands, a gesture that surprised him. He repositioned himself on the edge of the bed.

"...it's ginseng tea. The monks that have trained me have always said it helps heal incision wounds from within. I poured sweet honey, too."

He observed the man's reaction, but Yoshiro blew on the cup. Steam rose and momentarily hid his face, then he drank it in sips. He smiled, not to Yoshiro but to himself.

"Anyways, I'll be going now, so you can rest."

He stood up, not waiting for the man's reply. He stopped before the tent's door flap and waited for a bit, so he did not seem obvious.

"...thank you."

Kazuki lifted the tent's door flap and stepped outside. He walked off with no destination in mind. Then at the first breath of cold air, he smiled, his smile reaching to his ears. He lowered his head and covered it with his hand.

"Hey, why are you smiling like an idiot?"

He staggered a bit then laughed it off, "I'm not sure myself." He walked to his brother and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

His brother laughed with him, "Had you have some wine, or is your new conquest reacting positively?"

He scoffed, "He's not my conquest. He's my patient."

"A special patient," Nobu corrected, "Or else, you would have let the monks look after him in the infirmary."

"He deserves..." He stopped himself. He realized what his brother was doing. He smiled, "He deserves special care. He's in a critical state. I feel it is my responsibility to look after him." His hands couldn't stop shivering, so he hid them behind his back. He thought he looked dignified, walking with his hands like that anyways.

Nobu snickered, "You're not a monk. Why bother?" Before he could even open his mouth, his brother interrupted, "Drink with me."

He nodded and walked by his side. They were walking to Nobu's tent, where most of the wine in the camp was hidden.

"This war that we lost has brought me so much..."

He watched him smile bitterly. He continued for him because he knew his brother couldn't say such a word. He muttered, "Embarrassment."

Nobu chuckled, "Yes, I know such are wars. No matter how we plan, failures are inevitable at times. But I am the South's Crown Prince. I could have done something better. I could have prevented deaths and injury. I could have..." His brother stopped, then smiled at him and patted his head, "This is your first war as a prince and not as a doctor. I suppose you do not like it."

He kept quiet for a while, wanting Nobu to keep blabbering about his sentiments. He must avoid unnecessary chatter; he felt afraid his tongue would slip and reveal who his "special patient" was.

He lowered his head, "...the guilt I feel...is heavy. Suffocating as well."

He felt a weight pressing on him. He understood what this meant, so he closed his eyes and sunk into his older brother's shoulder.

"It'll get better. You will find that you have to kill to protect your own--our own--and all for the greater good of everyone."

He parted from the embrace and eyed his brother. The man smiled at him. He wondered if the man knew about his "special patient" and wondered if this was his way of hinting.

They arrived at Nobu's tent. It looked plain and even dull to Nobu, but to Kazuki, who grew up in humble houses while he studied up in the mountains, it looked grandiose. The tent seemed properly fitting for a Crown Prince. Kazuki felt flustered, recalling his own tent and making the North's Crown Prince stay in his shabby tent.

Nobu pulled two bottles and sat by the table. His legs relaxed, not folded, while he leaned on his hand, set on the table. Kazuki curtsied then followed. He grabbed a bottle to pour wine into his brother's cup but realized there were no cups.

His brother laughed, "We drink it straight." He clarified, "The bottle, not our preference."

He laughed along, grabbed a bottle for himself, and started drinking. Silence settled in as they enjoyed their bottles. Contrary to what he feared, there were no prying conversations. They have been quiet since the first sip of wine.

He said the first thing that came into his mind: "What are you thinking?"

Nobu replied, "The North's Crown Prince. I don't know where he is. The last I've seen of him was when I cut his back. I was about to kill him when his soldiers came to rescue him, and well, he got away. The North's got the region of Yeochun, and their Crown Prince is safe, tucked away somewhere."

He knew well where the North's Crown Prince was. He hid him in his tent. He whispered, "But...we cannot kill the North's Crown Prince. There shall be a penalty from the Main Temple monks...or from the gods--"

"Don't be silly. I know you do not believe in gods."

"I'm not...completely discounting them yet."

And it went quiet between them again.

He arrived at his tent, wanting to crash and sleep, but remembered he had someone. He sat on the edge of his bed, studied the North's Crown Prince's sleeping face, and thought about his earlier conversation with his brother. He wondered if he did the right thing saving him from death or if he ultimately sealed his peoples' fate.