Kiyoko is steadfast, and she’s been called morose. It’s rare, these days, to see her smiling, and as she walks through castle corridors people whisper.
“Kiyoko’s strength is in her silence,” they say, and she ignores them, “Do not try to get her to talk to you.”
Some days it seems as though Kiyoko defends the walls by herself. All of their soldiers have left, their general hoping to cut of the head of the snake, but the siege continues, and they are poorly equipped. No one knows why Kiyoko stayed behind - except, perhaps, Sugawara, but when they ask, he tells them just to be thankful that she’s there.
When the army comes, Kiyoko leads them to safety. The castle falls, but they escape, and that is enough for them. They sing their thanks to Kiyoko, and she ignores them, much to their chagrin.
Sugawara smiles sadly at Kiyoko’s back, turned away from the survivors in the cave, and goes to rest a hand on her shoulder.
“You have waited too long,” he tells her, and she shrugs.
Kiyoko’s strength is in her silence. She won’t break it, even for a friend. Sugawara sits with her before going to distribute supplies, and Kiyoko keeps watch, one sword against an army, if they find them.
They don’t, and the people begin to function again. They live in the caves now, but it’s not so bad, and Kiyoko’s name has become revered, only uttered in whispers, never when she’s within earshot.
Stories grow in the caves like mould on the walls, and speculation continues. All that Sugawara would say was that she was waiting for someone, but he doesn’t refute any of the gossip that spreads. It’s good for morale, probably, and Kiyoko herself doesn’t care for it enough to be hurt by it.
“It’s the General,” they say, and Sugawara laughs. “She must be in love with him. That’s the only reason they’d make her stay behind.”
A hawk brings them news that the General was killed in battle, and Kiyoko is unmoved.
“She’s hiding a broken heart,” someone insteads, but they’re laughed off.
“You just don’t want to admit that you were wrong.”
Months pass, and the war comes to an end. They survive it, but only just. There is no more news from their soldiers, and the people watch Kiyoko grow restless, pacing at the mouth of the cave system they’ve come to call home.
She’s asleep, though, when it finally happens. Their troop has made it home - what’s left of them anyway, fifty ragtag warriors with no ranking system between them. Medics usher them in, but Kiyoko sleeps on, and it’s only when she hears a brash voice piercing through the crowd that she sits up with a gasp.
“Oi, you call this a welcome wagon? Where’s the wine? Where are the dancers?”
One soldier sits perched on a log, shrugging off the people trying to attend to her with casual ease. Her armour is wrecked, and her hair is cut roughly, a sign of too much time on the road. Kiyoko pushes her way through the crowd, and Saeko stops complaining the second they make eye contact, staring at her with wide eyes. There’s a long silence. No one wants to speak in front of Kiyoko. Then, Saeko smirks.
“So, I’ve heard you’ve been up to big things while I’ve been gone. Nobody told me the glory came with staying at home.”
Kiyoko’s in Saeko’s arms in a second, punching her once, harshly on the shoulder before burying her face in her chest. Saeko laughs loudly, and the villagers look on, scandalised. Tilting her head upward, Kiyoko stands on tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to chapped, dirty lips.
Kiyoko’s voice is a hoarse whisper, but everyone strains to hear it.
FILL: Team Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, G
Kiyoko is steadfast, and she’s been called morose. It’s rare, these days, to see her smiling, and as she walks through castle corridors people whisper.
“Kiyoko’s strength is in her silence,” they say, and she ignores them, “Do not try to get her to talk to you.”
Some days it seems as though Kiyoko defends the walls by herself. All of their soldiers have left, their general hoping to cut of the head of the snake, but the siege continues, and they are poorly equipped. No one knows why Kiyoko stayed behind - except, perhaps, Sugawara, but when they ask, he tells them just to be thankful that she’s there.
When the army comes, Kiyoko leads them to safety. The castle falls, but they escape, and that is enough for them. They sing their thanks to Kiyoko, and she ignores them, much to their chagrin.
Sugawara smiles sadly at Kiyoko’s back, turned away from the survivors in the cave, and goes to rest a hand on her shoulder.
“You have waited too long,” he tells her, and she shrugs.
Kiyoko’s strength is in her silence. She won’t break it, even for a friend. Sugawara sits with her before going to distribute supplies, and Kiyoko keeps watch, one sword against an army, if they find them.
They don’t, and the people begin to function again. They live in the caves now, but it’s not so bad, and Kiyoko’s name has become revered, only uttered in whispers, never when she’s within earshot.
Stories grow in the caves like mould on the walls, and speculation continues. All that Sugawara would say was that she was waiting for someone, but he doesn’t refute any of the gossip that spreads. It’s good for morale, probably, and Kiyoko herself doesn’t care for it enough to be hurt by it.
“It’s the General,” they say, and Sugawara laughs. “She must be in love with him. That’s the only reason they’d make her stay behind.”
A hawk brings them news that the General was killed in battle, and Kiyoko is unmoved.
“She’s hiding a broken heart,” someone insteads, but they’re laughed off.
“You just don’t want to admit that you were wrong.”
Months pass, and the war comes to an end. They survive it, but only just. There is no more news from their soldiers, and the people watch Kiyoko grow restless, pacing at the mouth of the cave system they’ve come to call home.
She’s asleep, though, when it finally happens. Their troop has made it home - what’s left of them anyway, fifty ragtag warriors with no ranking system between them. Medics usher them in, but Kiyoko sleeps on, and it’s only when she hears a brash voice piercing through the crowd that she sits up with a gasp.
“Oi, you call this a welcome wagon? Where’s the wine? Where are the dancers?”
One soldier sits perched on a log, shrugging off the people trying to attend to her with casual ease. Her armour is wrecked, and her hair is cut roughly, a sign of too much time on the road. Kiyoko pushes her way through the crowd, and Saeko stops complaining the second they make eye contact, staring at her with wide eyes.
There’s a long silence. No one wants to speak in front of Kiyoko. Then, Saeko smirks.
“So, I’ve heard you’ve been up to big things while I’ve been gone. Nobody told me the glory came with staying at home.”
Kiyoko’s in Saeko’s arms in a second, punching her once, harshly on the shoulder before burying her face in her chest. Saeko laughs loudly, and the villagers look on, scandalised. Tilting her head upward, Kiyoko stands on tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to chapped, dirty lips.
Kiyoko’s voice is a hoarse whisper, but everyone strains to hear it.
“You came at last.”