And you guys were so confident this morning. I loosened my collar. Hakurei was still glaring down at me, anger radiating off of her entire body. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “What’re you in such a hurry for?”
“What was the meaning of that order?” She reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt, gripping the fabric with so much strength that her pale knuckles grew even paler. “Why are you sending me to Rinkei to inform them of the attack? Give me a detailed explanation, now!”
She must have come straight to me instead of listening to Asaka’s explanation.
I looked Hakurei in the eye, maintaining my calm, and explained, “It’s simple. All of the ships have either fled or been captured, and I’m sure that Gen has sealed off the sea route. That leaves horses as the only way we can move in or out of the city. Objectively, you and Asaka are the best riders left in Keiyou. We’ll send ten teams, consisting of twenty people, with you. I handpicked them based on their riding technique. Keiyou’s not going to last without reinforcements and if Keiyou falls, Rinkei’s next. We have to tell the capital what’s happening.”
She didn’t respond, looking away instead. Chou Hakurei was no fool; in fact, she was one of the most talented women I knew. So she understood that my reasoning was sound.
“If it’s riding skill, then you’re—” she tried, but I cut her off.
“I can’t enter the capital, remember? It’s part of my punishment.”
She looked up and glared at me. I could see her sapphire eyes starting to shimmer with unshed tears. “This is no time for your jokes!”
“Yeah, and I’m not joking. Let go.”
Hakurei did, though it was clear that she was reluctant to do so.
I straightened out my clothes, stood up, and stepped in front of her. Then I raised a finger in the air to explain my excuse in the most reasonable way possible. “Listen closely. Riding a horse day and night until you reach Rinkei is as difficult a task as staying to fight an enemy force several times larger than your army. There’s also a high chance that Gen sent out some assassins to stop messengers from leaving Keiyou. You’re going to suffer through the first option, and me the second. It’s fair, isn’t it?”
“Do I...” Hakurei pressed her face against my chest, though there was so little force behind the action I could hardly feel it. I could hear the quiet gasps from our audience. She spoke in a weak voice that I hadn’t heard from her these past few years. Her hot tears soaked the front of my shirt. “Do I not have the right to watch your back?”
Is she talking about how I didn’t let her charge into the enemy’s forces with me? She must’ve been more torn up about it than I initially thought. Hakurei’s shoulders were shaking and I gave her a few gentle pats on the back.
“You’re as dumb as always. Of course you do. It’s just that...”
“Just what?” Hakurei repeated when I trailed off. She looked up at me, her eyes puffy and red.
I thought for a moment before I said in a quiet voice, “Everyone I entrust my back to dies an early death, just like those veterans yesterday. I even ordered them not to die, again and again. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
Hakurei didn’t reply. She simply started to cry, fat tears rolling down her face. I never liked it when someone cried in front of me.
I took a step away from her and mustered the brightest tone I could. “In any case, I need you to report all of this to Rinkei, on the double! Bring back father and his three thousand soldiers—as well as reinforcements, while you’re at it.”
“Is that an order?” Hakurei asked, back to her usual cool tone as she glared at me.
I grinned and shook my head. “Nope. I’m simply exercising my right, since I miraculously won the race we had when we returned to Keiyou. You do remember what you said, right? That if I won, I could ask anything I want from you?”
“You scoundrel.” Hakurei’s eyes burned with fury as she slammed her fists against my chest, over and over again. “You never play fair! You always do this to me! You always... I want to... I also want to help—”
I let her take out her frustration for a moment before I wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s unlucky to cry before going to war, you know?”
“I’m not crying,” Hakurei muttered in a shaky voice as she stepped away from me. She held her hand up to her ponytail and pulled the red ribbon from her hair. Then, she held it out to me. It was the one I used when I was a kid. “This is my treasure. I’ll leave it in your care until I return. Make sure you give it back to me, all right?”
“Sounds good. Then, here, I’ll give you something as well.”
“Huh?”
I stepped away to take a small cloth bag from my drawer. Hakurei was staring at me, her hair hanging loose around her, and she accepted the bag when I placed it in her hands.
“What’s this?”
“It’s something I was going to give to you on your seventeenth birthday. You should really tie your hair up since you’re going to be riding a horse.”
Hakurei opened it up and took out an intricately embroidered red hair ribbon. It was one that I had personally commissioned from an artisan who lived outside Keiyou. Hakurei didn’t say anything and instead, pressed the ribbon against her chest for a moment. Her beautiful face was scrunched up like she was fighting back more tears, but she still managed to tie her hair back up in a ponytail, the motion so familiar to her she could do it in her sleep.
It looks good on her. Satisfied that I’d chosen right, I cleaned the rest of the tears off her face and nodded at her. She returned the nod, standing up straighter.
“I, Chou Hakurei, will accept the duty of delivering your message to Rinkei.” Her sharp and elegant voice echoed throughout the room with the announcement. “Do not go and die on me, Sekiei. I won’t stand for it.” With that, she held her fist out towards me. There was a strong sense of conviction in her eyes, almost as if she was offering me a challenge.
I smiled and pressed my fist against hers. “Of course, you can count on it! I have no plans to die just yet—I already decided in my past life that in this one, I’d die in bed.”
Something seemed to crumple in Hakurei’s expression, but she turned around before I could get a closer look.
“You idiot,” I heard her mutter before she raised her voice and called, “Asaka, let’s go!”
“Y-Yes, ma’am!” Asaka ran out from behind a pillar and hurried to stand in the garden. She looked up at me, so I nodded at her. Asaka gently tapped the dagger in her belt. “You can leave her to me!”
Getsuei whinnied as Hakurei leaped back onto its back. “Hyah!” she yelled and in the next instant Getsuei was gone, along with Asaka’s chestnut horse.
She didn’t look me in the eye at the end. I was in the middle of tying Hakurei’s ribbon around the hilt of my sword when Teiha returned.
“Was it truly all right to send Lady Hakurei away?” he asked, sounding nervous.
“It was.” I made my reply sharp enough to cut off anything else he might say.
On the off chance that Keiyou fell and Gen took Hakurei prisoner, I knew that hell would await her. She had a lot of value considering she was Chou Tairan’s daughter. Maybe I should’ve given her a hug before she left. I didn’t get the chance to wallow in my emotions for very long, though, since the soldiers and attendants who left the room along with Teiha were shuffling back. They certainly had no qualms about making their thoughts heard.
“Lord Sekiei, to think that you wouldn’t offer Lady Hakurei a hug after that conversation! You’re such a meanie!”
“I’d heard rumors about how slow on the uptake you could be regarding feelings, but...”
“It’s dire. It’s as if you have some sort of illness.”
“She’s probably crying right about now.”
To my shock, none of them were sympathetic towards me. Everyone loved Hakurei.
“Shut up, all of you!” I yelled, though it was clear from my dramatics I wasn’t really mad. “Go back to work! Chop chop! We don’t have any time left!”
“Yessir!” They saluted as one as they responded, grinning the whole time, before returning to their stations.
The pessimistic air from earlier had lightened a bit. I had to survive until Hakurei made it back; I couldn’t break my promise, after all. With that resolution in mind, I brushed my fingers against the red ribbon I’d tied around my sword.