fic: You Can Breathe Now (But The Air Is Running Out)

[bonnefois]

Title: You Can Breathe Now (But The Air Is Running Out)
Series: Fire Emblem: Echoes
Character/Pairing: Kamui/Leon, Leon > Valbar, Valbar/some random woman he married
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 12,255
Summary: Leon should've died of the disease years ago. Kamui, despite all odds, keeps trying to find a cure.
Author's note: Post game.

Technically this is a slight variation on how the trope usually goes. To explain, it got stuck in my mind on what would happen when you applied Hanahaki to someone who canonically had potentially 2 unrequited loves back to back.

Also, to explain the characterization here: there's a bit less banter due people being on the verge of death there. There's also an ending where Kamui takes Jesse's place and becomes the founder of the mercenary desert settlement, so Kamui going more responsible and caring post-game is actually a possible canon point if you let Jesse die.

Jesse's still alive in here, though somewhere doing mercenary things, though. But the potential of Leon dying made Kamui a bit more serious and a bit more likely to care about Things Other Than Money.

I have no clue who Genny married. It mentions her ending but leaves it vague to who she married.

Title comes from You Can Breathe by Jack's Mannequin. It was almost titled "Transplanting."

The equipment room was empty, though he could hear Valbar's booming voice, and his commands. Firm, yet gentle. Already all the men and women of the battalion completely adored Valbar, and how could Leon blame them?

He clutched his chest as his body was racked with a severe coughing fit. On his palm, he caught the bloodied petals of roses.

"You know, if I could sell all these flowers, I'd make a fortune. I could start a flower shop. Then at least there'd be something beautiful out of all this."

But, the petals withered in his hand and turned to ash on the ground. Leon sighed. No floral place mats or bouquets for him. They disappeared far too fast.

How useless. He couldn't even find beauty in these ephemeral mementos of the fact that he wasn't loved back. Again.

It'd started with Nayush. Leon had followed him into the mercenary lifestyle--and Nayush had died on their very first battle. But even though the pain felt so horrible that it felt as if he would die, and struggled for every breath, Leon lived on.

Because Valbar was always there to check on him. And Valbar wouldn't let him sink down into the depths, even as the pain grew more intense, and he could barely breathe.

If it was a miracle that he'd managed to live so long when the disease claimed lives so quickly, then it was a cruel miracle.

Oh, he'd heard it all before. The books, the healers, they all said the same things. If a love was unrequited, he'd die. Somehow he'd gotten this disease--flowers inside his lungs, all due to love. Like he'd stumbled into a tragic fairy tale.

By all rights, he should've died with Nayush on that battlefield right then and there. One last gasp, one last breath. Their hearts stopped at the same moment. A certain poetic end. And some sleepless nights when the pain was so unbearable--tearing him through and through, with thorns deep in his lungs--he would've preferred it.

But somehow, he'd fallen in love again, even more hopelessly. And the flowers kept growing. Maybe it was a blessing (or a curse) from Mila. He couldn't quite tell.

Leon gathered up his equipment. Even though his muscles ached from a day of coughing, and struggling for breath past the reach of the thorny vines, he still had one more job of the day to look forward to.

"Here's hoping the night goes fast," Leon said, to no one in particular.

He could still hear Valbar giving out a few last commands to the troops. Leon smiled wearily and headed down the hall. He'd made a promise to Valbar, and he intended to keep it. Even if it hurt.

*

The chilly night air irritated his lungs. Even more, he was sure the flowers had grown twice in size recently.

When he saw Valbar's smile as he told stories about her, the woman who had captured his eye, his heart and soon his name in marriage, the thorns dug deep into his lungs. Leon was left with nothing but crumbs.

No, no, don't be selfish. He clutched at his throat, and coughed harder. Each breath came out strained. He should be happy for Valbar, happy that he could love again. If only that would be enough to stem the vines inside his body.

They'd saved the world, defeated Duma. Peace had settled on the land, but Leon wouldn't live long enough to see it.

So it went.

He'd volunteered to do the last watch, to fill in for another soldier's shift, all just to see Valbar smile. (Any pleasure he could've had was pushed aside by the cold fact that Valbar took this chance to leave to meet the woman who would one day be his wife.)

Leon rubbed his arms. Just a few more hours and he could go home. Kamui had volunteered as well--for no reason Leon could tell. Maybe he thought there would be extra pay involved.

That was Kamui's main motivation, after all.

Far off, there were bonfires lit of other guards, all facing down the same cold night as him. The fog crept in, and made the air filled with moisture--and even more terrible for his lungs. Another coughing fit, and another.

Being continually ill was so tedious at points. The same symptoms, the same weaknesses. Over and over, until the end.

"Hey, are you okay? You keep coughing. You sure you're feeling good enough for guard duty?"

"No, but that's okay. It's life. It's not going to get better." He glanced to Kamui. "You wouldn't understand."

Kamui rubbed at his neck. "Sheesh, if you don't want to talk, just say it."

Leon sighed, and finally clarified. "The air makes it hard for me to breathe."

Well, that and his unfortunate habit for falling for men who couldn't love him back. The mere fact that he'd even survived this long defied all medical and magical texts on the matter.

"Your illness hasn't improved?" Kamui's voice wavered just a little at that.

"You could say that. It flares up sometimes. It's gotten worse as of late."

Between this and the recent arm injury he'd sustained, and just barely healed from, he'd have to leave training the troops by Valbar's side all too soon.

There'd been dreams. A little plot of earth to call his own, a shop--a man who loved him back. How long he'd live to even reach those dreams was questionable. At least he could try for the first one. The second one, however...that one was much harder.

Kamui left without another word. At least he could've said goodbye. Oh, who was he kidding? It wasn't like he wanted to hear Leon's life story.

Considering that they always ended up fighting, Leon wasn't even sure why Kamui had bothered.

He flinched when he felt the weight at his back, and over his shoulders. Not from the leaves twisted in his lungs, but the roughness of wool.

"Sorry to startle you. I thought you knew I was there."

"Just because I'm well informed doesn't mean I have eyes on the back of my head."

"'Well-informed' that's what you're calling it now?" Kamui said.

"I never specified what I was well informed about. In my case, it happens to be about other people's lives."

Kamui laughed softly. Silence came again between them.

Leon pulled the blanket closer about him. It still faintly smelled of Kamui. Like...evergreen. Had he done a job in the forests recently? To the point where his clothes still smelled strongly of the woodlands?

It was surprisingly comforting. Because it reminded him of the forests, not because it reminded him of Kamui, of course.

The deep green blanket was rough and scratchy against his face. He glanced to Kamui. "This is your blanket. What are you going to use?"

"I was a shepherd on the mountains for most of my life. I've been through nights way colder than this. I'll be fine."

"Well, if you're okay with it, I won't complain."

Kamui gave him a knowing grin.

"This time, anyways."

He'd miss this, he thought. As indescribable as it was, it was true. He'd miss arguing with Kamui as the leaves grew out and each breath was strangled from him.

"If you aren't feeling up to it, I'll take your turn on watch. If you don't want to walk home, you could catch some sleep in the training barracks. There's always an empty bed somewhere," Kamui said.

"No...I wouldn't want to let Valbar down."

Kamui let out a disgusted sigh. "You know he wouldn't care a whit if you had to go home and rest. He'd be far more worried that you were pushing yourself too far."

Leon felt a tickle at his throat at that. Leaves, and a rush of constant nausea. No matter how many times he told himself that he already knew the answer, to hear that Valbar cared about him made that feeling rise.

Pain, the horrible hope that would crash and burn seconds later when he remembered, and always the edge of nausea in every moment.

"I'll stay as long as I can, at least," Leon relented.

Not just for this watch, but for every moment he could continue to push his body and stay here.

"Fall's coming," Kamui said.

If only as the leaves turned bright colors, his own leaves fell away, too. But, no such luck.

"Are you going somewhere else for the winter?" Leon said.

"No plans for that, why?"

"You're always going somewhere, it seems," Leon said.

Kamui rubbed at his neck. "I figured with that war, I've done enough traveling for a while. The pay's good here. King Alm pays top notch."

Leon chuckled. "I suppose enough gold would make even you stay. At least for a while."

"Well, not just that," Kamui said. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'd enjoy the--good company, you know."

Leon didn't say anything. The last thing he wanted to do was nurture this little obvious thing Kamui had for him. Crush, fascination, whatever. Despite Kamui's constant denials, it was still there.

No book or folktale ever explained if the disease could travel, if there were spores or seeds that could embed themselves in someone else's body. But, he wasn't about to take a chance.

They fell into silence again. Not particularly comfortable, but it was for the best. The further and more disconnected Kamui was from him, the better.

*

Leon rubbed at his shoulder. Pain shot down to his fingertips. Even the healer's light did nothing to heal the injury. The shift was almost over, at least. He'd been exhausted from the moment he woke, barely able to catch his breath from the moment he came in to help train the troops with Valbar.

Valbar sat on the bench nearby. The cubbyholes were filled with weapons of new, idealistic troops. Valbar knew them all by name, and had such pride in his face as he told their exploits. Like they were all his own big family, all adopted by Valbar, their benefactor, their uncle in all but blood.

He was so tall, so imposing, even seated. His jaw was strong, and covered with a faint stubble now. He really was a picture of the kind of beauty that even the gods would envy. And somehow, somehow so utterly handsome managed to have the kindest soul Leon had ever met.

His laughter dissipated as Valbar caught sight of Leon's hand. Leon winced at that--and not just the pain. He'd have to keep this part more hidden, or he'd worry Valbar unnecessarily.

Valbar's face was filled with such concern, it made him ache. He was such a kind and good man. He didn't deserve to lose another friend this way.

"You're looking pretty pale, Leon. That old lung thing acting up on you? And your arm? That okay?"

Leon nodded. It was dizzying, being this close. It only made the flowers in his lungs grow larger. Their petals lifted to the sun of Valbar's warmth.

"Man, something must be going around. Kamui's got a cough lately."

Leon's brow furrowed. "....Kamui? Is he coughing up flowers?"

"Flowers? What are you talking about?"

"No...never mind. It's nothing, really."

Of course, he'd just gotten some kind of cold. The only thing Kamui would ever devote himself to was money. Or at least, Leon prayed that was all he'd fallen desperately in love with.

He kept bargaining with himself. One more day by Valbar's side, one more day of helping training the troops, one more day of pushing himself until the pain was unbearable.

But at the end of each day he bargained for one more to any god who would listen. Each time he knew he was getting weaker, and one day he would run out of time.

"You sure you're okay?"

There was such concern in his gaze. He couldn't let Valbar down. Not like this.

Leon forced a smile, though it came out more like a grimace. "I'll be fine, Valbar."

For now, anyways.

*

The room echoed with happiness. Wine glasses were filled, the many recruits around Valbar, sharing in his happy moment.

And Leon knew this was it. The last day in the barracks.

(Which would be worse? To have a coughing fit which hurt Valbar's happiness, or to slip quietly out. Either way, he was a bad friend.)

He'd already known it was coming, and yet, the fixed date felt like a countdown to his last breath. He wouldn't ruin Valbar's happy moment with this. What he already knew the answer to all along. Sometimes being a good friend was so very exhausting.

He'd already prepared the paperwork to leave months ago, but hadn't for a moment been able to bring himself to put it in.

Leon took a breath and opened up the cubbyhole marked with his name. He could still hear the revelry from the other rooms. Unused arrows, supplies for his bow, and a few bits of cloth. He pulled them out, one by one and filled his satchel full.

Even this left him winded. The healers had been warning him for a while, but he'd pushed on through the pain. And now here he was, at the last day, but not quite yet the last goodbye.

"There you are, Leon. You weren't at the party. Are you feeling okay?"

Leon glanced back. Kamui leaned against the door frame. He kept nervously tapping the wood with his fingers.

"I'm thinking of starting a shop. I bought out an old shop right after the war, though I haven't had time to renovate it. There's even a plot of land in the back, and enough quarters for me to live in. I could make a garden." Leon said. His voice came out light--lighter than he felt, at least.

And he said all these things--these lies, half truths with such ease. Of course he'd always had these dreams. Just not the time to do them all.

Kamui smiled. "I didn't think you the type to ever get your hands dirty."

"Oh, I'm not. I'll hire a gardener for that. Some handsome man to carry things for me and keep my flowers blooming. Someone to paint my shutters white and fill up the flower boxes in front with violets."

"If you need someone to hire, I'd do the job. I don't come cheap, though."

"I could never afford you. I saw what you charged Valbar back then. He was downright magnanimous to take your offer. Though, no surprise, considering it was him."

"Well, I might give you a discount. A little one," Kamui said.

Leon hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "I'll consider it. But of course, there's so many handsome men I could hire. You'd have plenty of competition."

"Yeah, I always end up like that," Kamui said.

"See you, until next time," Kamui said.

Would there be a next time? Leon couldn't say. Still, he waved one last time to Kamui before he left.

*

The usual healer was late. Instead, a little fluffy haired girl showed up at his door. Well, a woman now. He still remembered her like that little lamb who had healed them so bravely in the war.

Now, her stark white Saint's attire was about as fluffy as her hair.

Leon closed the door behind her. "Don't mind the clutter. I'm still unpacking, slowly but surely."

"Sorry, sorry, Silque had to help at the training grounds. There was an accident..."

A sudden dread filled Leon. "Valbar wasn't hurt, was he?"

"No, some new recruit. Um, I forgot his name...There was a missed arrow, but he's okay, now."

"Good, good..."

Genny cleared her throat. "I'll heal you now. I'm sure you're in awful pain."

His wounds were temporarily healed by the light of her heal staff. Leon knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was coughing up petals and feel the thorns deep inside him. But, at least for this moment, he had relief.

"You ever going to introduce me to that husband of yours, Genny? I heard all about that. Congratulations, by the way."

Genny only smiled enigmatically.

"What, you don't kiss and tell? I'll meet him eventually..." He trailed off as he saw the smile disappear from her face.

"You look worried, Genny. What's wrong?"

"Kamui came to me asking about a cure for you. His coughing is getting worse. Is...is there an illness going across Valentia? We fought so hard for peace...I would hate to see it broken."

"Mine isn't contagious, or at least I should hope not. He's probably just been a fool again. Fought in the rain, or slept on the cold ground."

"I hope so," Genny said softly.

And so did Leon, for that matter.

"Wait, he asked about a cure for me? You did tell him that I don't have the money to pay his usual fees, correct?"

"He didn't ask about gold. Though last I heard, he was off to do more mercenary jobs close by."

"Well, good for him, I suppose."

He would've offered her tea, but Genny already had her hand on the door.

"I hope you don't think I'm being too rude, but... He's... expecting me," she blushed at that, unable to manage anything more.

"Ah, I won't keep you, then."

"Thank you for understanding," Genny said softly. She headed out, whistling.

Lucky for her that she'd found herself some man to love her back. Though, he couldn't resent her for it. He could never resent such a soft and sweet girl, who had healed his wounds many times over the battlefield, and never had a harsh word to say about anyone.

Even though he'd been just healed, he still felt exhausted. When before, he would have renewed vigor. The boxes would have to wait to be unpacked for another day.

*

The rain continued on. Unfortunately, the weather made his breathing even more difficult. Even if he wasn't in the direct path of the rain, he could swear the humidity somehow seeped into his lungs.

When a knock came at the door, each step was more painful than the last.

Instead of a daily visit from one of the healers, it was Kamui who showed up on his doorstep, his cloak soaked from rain. His dark hair was plastered against his face, longer than before. Kamui usually couldn't stand too much hair against his nape, and always kept a band across his forehead to keep bangs out of his eyes.

He must've been quite busy if he hadn't taken a knife to his hair. (Leon had looked on in horror then at Kamui's makeshift haircut, with frayed edges. Leave it to Kamui to not want to pay to have his hair trimmed.)

He didn't even wait to be invited in. Leon stepped back as Kamui pushed through the threshold with purpose. Rain dripped from his evergreen tunic and pants, right down to his boots. Apparently, he'd forgotten his umbrella.

"You have Hanahaki?"

There was an urgency to his voice that Leon had never heard before. After all, this was a man who looked at the conflict of gods and wondered how much he'd get paid, and if it'd be worth all the trouble.

"Hello to you too--wait, you know of it?"

He nodded. "There was a story of 'the woman who coughed up flowers.' She fell in love with her childhood friend, but he left to fight in a war. He married someone else, and she wasted away until she died. They say Mila blessed her, and in death, those flowers still bloomed in that mountain valley."

"What a blessing," Leon said.

"It's about Valbar, isn't it?"

There was a certain sharpness to his voice as he said Valbar's name.

"Of course. It always is," Leon said.

Kamui coughed suddenly. Bloodstained petals were on his palm. All lavender. Everything he had suspected about Kamui for so long came into focus.

Leon closed his eyes for a moment. Just the knowledge of this was another shot of pain.

He'd tried, he really had. And it'd happened anyways.

"...I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was drag you down with me. The truth is, I was supposed to die years ago."

Kamui rubbed at his mouth.

"If you lived this long, then there's got to be a cure somehow," Kamui said.

"There isn't one, not for me. You know the stories even better than I do," Leon said.

"Those are just fairy tales. They've got a hint of truth, but nothing else," Kamui said.

Leon gave him an annoyed look. "You're so stubborn....you know there's no hope."

And not for Kamui, either. But what could he do, tell him to stop loving him? They'd already had that conversation, and Kamui had denied it. Somehow, he'd fallen more, even though Leon had given him the cold shoulder as often as he could.

This time, Kamui didn't have any denials to make.

Besides, Leon was no authority on getting over unrequited love. Leon knew all too well what it was like to fall in love with someone who couldn't love him back.

"I'd send a bouquet to apologize, but it probably wouldn't be in good taste," Leon said lightly.

"Apologize? You didn't even tell me that you'd left," Kamui said. Hurt filled his voice.

"Of course I didn't. What did you expect? It'd turn into a fight, and frankly, I'm too tired to deal with that."

"Is that all? I just thought...at least you'd say goodbye. I thought at least I was worth that much."

"Then, I'm saying it now," Leon said.

"What are you going to do about this?"

"You've forgotten already? I left to follow my dreams and start a shop. That's why I left."

"...You couldn't keep up anymore, could you?"

Leon made a tsk tsk noise. "Why so gloomy? Yes, I'm dying, but you don't have to look at the dark side of everything?"

Kamui covered his mouth as he bent over, with another set of deep coughs.

"Oh, right. You're dying too. I suppose there's no bright side to be found in all this."

"I suppose not," Kamui said.

"My arm injury was too severe. And my lung issue...well, you know," Leon said. "So here I am. In the next chapter of my life as a shopkeeper. How long that will last is anyone's guess. It's been mere luck that I lived this long...who knows how long that luck will last."

"I see," Kamui said.

Kamui turned and went back into the downpour without a goodbye. Maybe that was his revenge, or he was still too hurt that Leon had left so suddenly.

Kamui didn't stay. And he didn't expect him to. It wasn't as if they were anything to each other.

This emptiness was the disease carving out his body, and the last clinging to life, and any closeness and human warmth. That was all, Leon reminded himself.

He didn't miss Kamui. He just missed any human comfort. That was all.

*

Kamui didn't show up for days. He did this, Leon reminded himself, when the absence became more and more apparent. And, it was better this way. If only Kamui could be better at this unrequited love thing, get over him, and go fall in love with a nice sailor who liked cats.

And if only Leon could actually fall in love with a man who actually was capable of loving him back. Oh, it was how the old saying went. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

In fact, Leon felt that bit of nervous anticipation every time he opened the door for knocks. But usually, it was a healer. Some he knew, some he didn't. Occasionally Valbar visited, but training (and his newfound love) left him rather busy.

Leon couldn't fault Valbar for having such a life. Much, anyways. (He just wished he could be there, even if it hurt.)

When Kamui did return, it was on a cold day, framed in wet fallen leaves. The scent of the forest was stronger on him than ever. A bit of green cloth was tied about his face.

Leon scrunched up his nose. "What did you do, roll round in the pine needles?"

"Climbed a mountain or two, actually," Kamui said dryly.

"I don't have the money to pay--"

Kamui held up his finger, so very close to Leon's lips. "No pay needed."

"Come on, we both know--"

Kamui cut him off. "None. Zero. Not a single gold piece. If you try and give me some, I'll hand it back to you."

"As I was saying, I don't have a lot to pay you. I haven't gotten my shop up yet, and there's closing costs, and no income from working for King Alm."

"I didn't do this for money, I did this for you," Kamui said.

That stopped all of Leon's quipps and comebacks and slicing wit.

"You went that far, for me?" His voice was soft, despite himself.

"Yeah. You don't have to be so surprised," Kamui said.

To that, Leon could only give Kamui a look.

"I deserve that, I suppose. Anyways, they said that if you make a tea of this herb, it'd help your lungs. And this--burn it, the smoke is soothing."

In his arms were herbs he'd managed to find. The leaves were small, and with red veins throughout. They had a strange scent that Leon couldn't quite define. Like mint, but more earthy.

He'd lost track of what Kamui had said. "...because it was past that mountain, in some hidden away valley. Blessed by Mila, they said."

"Blessed like she 'blessed' that poor girl who died?"

"I sure hope not," Kamui said.

"What about you? You took cuttings for yourself, right?"

"Some," Kamui said.

He felt it again, that palpitation, that flutter. Just another symptom of the disease, he reminded himself.

"My mask is soaked in it," Kamui said finally.

"At least stay a while. You must be tired from that much of a hike."

"It was a pretty long walk. I'm used to it, though. Either way, I'll help prepare the tea," Kamui said.

"It's tea, not some magical concoction. I think I'll be fine. Besides, it'd make me a horrible host," Leon said.

Kamui grimaced. "Would you stop and just let me do this, okay?"

Leon let out a long breath. It took every bit of self-control to not snipe back at him. (With words, not arrows, of course.)

"All right," he said softly. "You can make the tea."

Leon watched out the window as the herbs boiled down. The whole kitchen had the same earthy scent Kamui did.

Kamui managed to bring the dying embers of the slightly cracked hearth back alight. Leon watched him, all bent down on all fours, determined to bring back that fire. When he'd finally coaxed the fire back, without even magic, he began to pinch off leaves and put them into the pot. With such care and focus, he stirred and stirred.

Leon turned away. An undefinable emotion grew within him. Leon blamed it on the vestiges of the disease.

*

Before he left, Kamui had planted the little plants he'd gathered in the mountains. At some point, he'd tilled the land, too. Though it must've been while Leon slept, for he hadn't even heard the sound.

Leon brought water to the plants by afternoon. His arms ached, and each step was a little sliver of agony, but Leon pushed on. Kamui had gone so far for him. He couldn't let these little plants die.

He hadn't much experience with gardening. Save for the gardens he'd accidentally cultivated in his lungs. Somehow, he'd been very good at growing those flowers and falling in love with people who couldn't love him back. Kamui had left pages of notes on plant care that Leon still was deciphering like it was some runic inscription.

Kamui's handwriting hadn't been this bad until very recently. And his cough had grown exponentially. Leon was exhausted enough dealing with life. The last thing he needed was guilt that he'd actually pulled someone else into this unrequited love spiral.

Leon checked out on the little garden so often. Every time he saw those green leaves branching out, he remembered. Kamui, soaked and so worried. The way his dark hair was stuck against his face. How much care he'd put into making the entire tea.

The rest he would have to piece together from stories. How Kamui had climbed entire damn mountains to find this herb. How he must've searched through and poured through documents to even find out about it.

More leaves had grown on the little plant. Leon dared to harvest one little leaf a day, pinched off as painlessly as he could between thumb and fingers. He always said an apology, and boiled the drink.

His lungs still ached, but Leon wanted to believe this would give him at least a few more days, at least.

And sometimes, despite the constant pain of the flowers, he would manage a smile.

*

As the wedding day neared, Leon's conditioned worsened. What was it about this arbitrary date which made the clock count down faster? He'd known for such a long time that Valbar didn't love him that way. Yet this finality of the truth only made the wretched weeds circle his lungs, with petals pushing out on every breath.

Sleep was the only respite from the constant pain. From fitful dreaming, he awoke to realize he wasn't alone.

The hearth was lit, and something cooked there in a cast iron cauldron. Like a witch's house. Two figures he recognized in the shadows from their voices: Kamui and Valbar.

"I don't know if I should even be here. Do I make his sickness better, or worse? I can't tell. There's nothing I can do."

"Listen," Kamui said.

"There's something you can do."

"Keep it down, he's asleep," Valbar said.

(Though his voice, even in his attempt at quiet, was much louder than Kamui's.)

Kamui took Valbar by the shoulder.

"Listen, I know you've got that lady, but you have to fall in love with Leon."

"What are you--"

"Keep it down, or you'll wake him up. I know these signs. In my homeland, it's called Hanahaki disease. Tales have said that from ancient times, people were cursed with a disease. Flowers would grow in their lungs. The only cure is to love the person back. He's dying, Valbar."

"Wait, aren't you spitting up flowers too?" Valbar said.

"That isn't the point," Kamui said. "You have to, Valbar. If you don't love him back, he'll die."

"Kamui..."

"Can't you at least try? It should be easy. Leon's so--compelling and handsome. Trust me, it's very easy to fall in love with him."

Valbar let out a sigh. "Look, if I went that way, I'm sure Leon would be my first choice. But I just don't go that way. All the respect in the world for people that do, but it isn't me. And I've got..."

He couldn't hear Valbar's exact response then, but he knew the gist. He'd fallen in love with someone else. Leon knew it all too well.

Kamui shook his head. "Right now, I really wish you were."

Kamui licked his lips, and turned away. He was a step away from pacing the room.

"Honestly, I don't get it. How aren't you in love with Leon? How isn't every person in the army in love with him? How do the people he buys supplies, and people he passes in the street not in love with him? He's so charming and dynamic and beautiful. I've never met anyone like him. The fact that anyone wouldn't simply fall that easy seems so...impossible to me."

"You've really changed up, Kamui. When I first met you, you wouldn't have gone this far for anyone, at least not without a bag of gold for it. Now, look at you."

"What can I say, Leon does that to people."

"Hell, you would've denied it back then."

"Hard to deny what's literally killing me," Kamui said, his voice low. "Even time I try, I'd start coughing anyways."

"I think we both know who's in love with him, Though it took you long enough," Valbar said.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same. He's already made that plenty clear."

"--Besides, if I fell in love with him, who'd save you?" Valbar said.

"I'm a mercenary. Death could come to me any time anyways. A stray arrow might hit me in the neck long before the Hanahaki got me. In fact, it'd be preferable. Better to go out quick than die like some maiden in a fairy tale, pining away to nothing in a bed of flowers."

"Damn, I'd hate to lose you as well."

"You don't have to go like that, you know. I won't get my feelings hurt. I know you and Leon have got some kind of friendship I'll never have."

"Leon's right, you are a fool. Of course I care about whether you live or die. And though Leon wouldn't admit it, he cares too."

Kamui fell silent.

"I'm not saying I think he wants me dead, or that he'd dance on my grave, but he wouldn't bring me flowers, either, or go out of his way to come to my funeral, either," Kamui said.

"Now you're just being stubborn and wrong," Valbar said.

"Leon's right. You always see the best in people," Kamui said.

Kamui stepped away before Valbar could respond.

"There's got to be a way," he said finally. "I'll find it, even if it kills me."

"Maybe choose some other words?" Valbar said.

"You're right; they're a little too fitting," Kamui said.

Kamui left, and Valbar kept stirring the pot of herbal concoction. Leon stayed beneath the covers and pretended to still be asleep. His skin was hot, his pulse quick, and each breath burned. He closed his eyes hard enough to see stars. The feeling didn't go away.

*

Leon had fallen deep into sleep, only to wake with Valbar still there. The kitchen was dark, only lit by embers.

"Where's Kamui?" Leon said.

"Pouring over the library, last I heard. Reading up on herbs and some such stuff... You feeling any better?"

"Better than what, the dead?" Leon said.

Valbar didn't have any quick quip to that. "Oh, Leon," was all he said.

"I heard it all, you know," Leon said.

Valbar sighed. "It's my fault. I'm a bit too loud at times. Forget how much my voice echoes."

"There's nothing to apologize for. Valbar, you've been the best friend I've ever had. I don't regret falling in love with you, even if it kills me."

"Don't say that. I'd feel awful, knowing I killed you. I couldn't save them, and to think I couldn't save you, and couldn't help Kamui, either." He shook his head. "Life's too cruel. Far too many good people have died along the way. And in the end, I'm not enough to fix that."

Valbar looked at him with such pain in his eyes. And it ached more than the disease. Valbar had such pain in his life, such loss, and yet he always supported Leon.

The fact that he couldn't repay that was so very bitter to Leon.

"Now, don't you dare go criticizing yourself, Valbar. You're more than enough. There's few men this generation who can even reach the kind of man you are," Leon said sharply.

"Should've known you'd put me in my place," Valbar said.

"Leon, I always loved you--like a brother, and a friend. But not like that. I wish it was enough."

"I know, and I never faulted you for it."

"I wish it were that simple. Maybe Kamui can find what he was looking for. He's been there for hours. Doubt he's even eaten."

His heart fluttered. Each breath was difficult as the vines burrowed deeper. That was all. The flower disease felt almost like falling in love, but more painful.

*

Night came and Kamui didn't return. Valbar had gone back home, though only at Leon's urging. Leon pulled the cloak tight around him as he headed out past the closed shops, the guards who nodded and let him through, and into the royal libraries.

Even the most hard working scribes had gone to bed. But he found Kamui fast asleep between several tomes on herbcraft. His face was pressed against a chapter on the healing possibilities of lichen. Leon laid his cloak over Kamui's shoulders.

Kamui stirred.

"Leon...?"

"You're finally awake."

Kamui groggily rubbed his eyes.

"Mmmghn...Are you sure you should be out in the night air?"

"I probably shouldn't, but here I am," Leon said.

Leon pulled out a chair next to Kamui. The chair made a scraping noise, and Leon sat down.

"Quite some school project you've got here. A bit more of this and you'll become a fine mage," Leon said.

Kamui scoffed. "Give me a tome and I'd probably accidentally burn down the entire city. I've no affinity for magic."

"Well, you've some affinity for herbs, at least," Leon said.

"I've had lots of practice," Kamui said.

"That shepherding job?"

"Among other jobs," Kamui said.

"I see," Leon said.

They fell silent, until the only noise was their breaths, and the turning of pages. Leon rested his hands against the cold table. Finally, Leon cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"...You know, it didn't start with Valbar, you know. It started with Nayush."

Leon glanced down at the books.

"I loved him so intensely, and he died on the battlefield. I couldn't stop crying, but Valbar was there for me. He wouldn't let me fall into sadness. For some reason, the disease transferred to him."

His brow furrowed in thought. "That's what happened? I've never heard of that happening before."

"I guess I'm an outlier in the end," Leon said.

"Not surprising. You're always special like that," Kamui said.

"You love me," he said as a statement, not a question.

Kamui didn't speak for a moment.

Finally, he nodded.

"Then we're both tangled up in this vine and unable to escape."

In fairy tales, a kiss would solve all the problems. An endless slumber, a prince turned into a frog. But, it wasn't nearly that easy for Leon.

"I think it was a graft," Leon said suddenly.

"A graft?"

"How people take a cutting of a tree? I'm afraid I'm not well versed in gardening," Leon said.

"A scion to a rootstock," Kamui said softly.

"Hmm?"

"The top is called the scion, the bottom the rootstock."

"I thought you were a shepherd, not a worker at an orchard," Leon said.

"I've done my share of odd jobs for money. Once, I saw a grafted tree with two different types of blooms. Half was white, the other pink," Kamui said.

"That's probably how my lungs look," Leon said.

It was just a theory, like many others as to why he kept on living.

Leon pushed his chair back and stood up. "Go on home already. You'll use up all your strength this way," Leon said.

Kamui rubbed at his stiff neck. "I'd probably get thrown out of the library if I stayed any longer," Kamui said.

Kamui began to undo his cloak. He handed it to Leon without looking at him.

"It's cold. The air will get you coughing again."

But, it was Kamui who coughed, and though he covered his mouth, Leon saw the lavender petals drop and fade. Kamui tied tighter the cloth about his face, from where it'd begun to slip.

Leon lifted the dark cloak up to inspect it. "I've already got a cloak," Leon said. "And a better made one, too. When did you last fix this one? It's filled with tears."

"It got ripped while I was herb hunting. Brambles did a number on it," Kamui said.

"The least I can do is mend it a bit," Leon said.

Already his mind was filled of the kind of colorful cloth he could use to patch up the holes, and make it more eye-catching. Prior to his sudden turn, he'd bought several bolts of cloth to use for making tunics, and eventually, his shop. Alas, with his ailment and uncertain future, they hadn't even been touched and were moldering away in storage. Probably eaten away by rodents.

He so needed to get himself a cat.

"Are you sure you won't be too cold?"

"This is nothing compared to shepherding in the mountains," Kamui said.

"You mention that a bit. I daresay it sounds like shepherding was like some level of hell to you," Leon said.

"If you ever worked with goats, you'd understand. Sheep, they're fluffy, but stupid as hell. Goats, though. They're mischievous and too smart for their own goods. And they just love to headbutt people with their horns."

"Well, glad you survived all those vicious, vicious, goats," Leon said teasingly.

"Sure, sure, say that now. But one day you'll meet one and you'll understand," Kamui said.

Kamui pulled something from his satchel. "Before I forget," he said.

A wool scarf dyed in red and a bit of green cloth.

"Here, let me..."

He wrapped the scarf softly about Leon's neck, and with such a gentle touch, tied the mask about his face. His touch was surprisingly warm in this cold.

"It helps with the coughing. The scent soothes the lungs, the throat a bit..."

"You're a man of all trades. You've taken up the role of an apothecary, too," Leon said softly.

"If it makes me gold, I'll do anything. Isn't that how it always is?"

"You aren't getting paid for this," Leon said.

"The one other reason," Kamui said softly.

"You've changed, Kamui."

"A little bit, maybe."

"A little?" Leon said. He lifted his eyebrows.

"You don't have to say it like that."

"What did you expect? We do nothing but fight."

"Who knows. The heart's a mysterious thing. I sure as hell don't get it. Nothing's made sense for a while. So I just keep pushing through. That's all I can do, I suppose."

"Me neither," Leon said.

And he thought, it would be so much easier if he could just fall in love with Kamui. If he'd manage to fall in love with someone who could actually love him back for once. If this strange blessing or curse or whatever it was of Mila didn't exist.

But here he was.

"When things got troublesome, I'd just leave. Then forget. Now the mere thought of leaving for long...hurts. Because I'd miss your smile, your wit, your whole--presence."

Leon didn't respond.

"I know you don't feel the same. But I wanted to say that. That's all."

There was nothing Leon could say. No apologies or anything to clear this or fix it. So he said nothing.

"There's a procedure, done by dark magic. It removes all traces of the disease. But you forget the person you love entirely," Kamui said. "It'll spare your life, though."

"I've heard," Leon said.

"Would you do it?" Kamui said.

"I became a different person because I loved Valbar. Stronger, braver, even wiser. To remove that would be to remove a part of myself. I'd be living an empty, half-life. Even if he never loves me back, I grew because of the love I had for him. ....If only those were the magic words to release me from this curse. If only that worked."

Kamui said nothing.

"Would you?" Leon said, his voice a challenge.

"I don't know."

Kamui glanced down.

"What you said--that's what I've been feeling all this time. I'm not the same person I was a year ago, or even before the war. I never would've gone this far for anyone before. Maybe I stare down this year and look at the person I'm becoming and wonder what happened. And when I add it up, to figure out why, it's you. It's always you."

"Then we're back where we started. Each of us dying bit by bit and unable to stop it," Leon said.

"Yeah, I suppose we are. But hopefully, there's tomorrow. The library will be open again. There's a whole section I haven't gotten to yet. Maybe I can find some mage to help me decipher some of these terms. I've got no skill for magic, but I could find someone who does."

"You'd be back to work already?"

"You know what they say: Tomorrow is promised to no one," Kamui said. "Suddenly, that saying is so much more meaningful."

Kamui looked down the lane. "I should get back to the inn, or they'll throw my stuff out to the curb. I'll be around. I found some new leads on the books. Of course, I'm no scholar, but I know my plants from all the time I spent on the mountains, keeping the sheep safe."

Leon bit his lower lip to keep from saying the strange words on the tip of his tongue stay

There were so many excuses. Good ones, even.

They fought, and he was too tired. Spending more time with Leon would probably make Kamui's symptoms worsen.

And he almost said it, stay. But Kamui turned at a corner, his back lit by the moon for a moment. Leon watched him go.

Even through the cold, he could breathe. And it was such a surprising feeling, the lack of pain. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like. He touched to his chest, usually tender from coughing. A certain warmth was there.

It was just gratitude, he reminded himself. Just that. Nothing else. Even as the unsaid words remained.

Even as he thought of going down that path, right to Kamui's door to say them.

*

When Leon got back home, he closed the doors. He lit a candle, and passed through the tight fit of wooden boxes yet to be unpacked. Dried herbs hung from the walls and ceiling. Kamui must have left them when he was last here.

Leon reignited the hearth, fed with the flame of his candle.

Then, he sat on the edge of his bed. It'd been some time since he'd felt this strong. Now, where was it?

A bit of searching, and he pulled out his mending kit from his satchel. Of course, he never let it go far. He'd had far too many tears in his tunic on the battlefield over the years. (Even if it was a life or death situation of the fights between the countries and gods, Leon was not going to any battlefield looking ripped up and dirty.)

He pieced through the nearest colorful bits of cloth, and began to fix patches in. A bit of purple here, a bit of gold there. It had to be striking, captivating, but not garish. The cloak still had that evergreen scent of Kamui. (Had he gone into the wilds again, and not mentioned it yet?)

Leon took in the scent. How comforting, and he breathed better now at the aroma of pines.

I look like some housewife, mending the clothes, he thought, with some amusement.

(Had Kamui been here, he probably would've said the same.

*

For the first time in weeks, he could more easily go outside. Kamui's cloak was laid across Leon's arm as he closed the door behind him.

Leon shaded his face with his hand as he oversaw Kamui's work.

Kamui's nails were dirty, and in his hands was a new seedling. The plant had been transferred to the back yard. Many new herbs with such sensuous and savory scents filled it.

Leon had planned on flowers, but he could hardly complain.

"I was surprised I didn't see you in there. At this rate, you might as well get yourself a key to my door," Leon said.

"Valbar already gave me one," he said.

"Of course he did," Leon said.

"I had to get this plant in, or it would wilt. It was a pretty rough trip back, had some brigands try and jump me past the mountain."

"What? Are you all right?"

Kamui smiled. "Yeah, they were unskilled."

"You climbed another mountain?" And the unsaid ending: for me?

"This is a different variety. Though yes, I did."

"Thank you for that."

Kamui nodded, and brushed his cheek with his dirty arm. He left a smear of dirt there on his face.

"I mended this last night. Thank you for letting me borrow your cloak," Leon said.

"Oh--thanks for that. It's so like you. The colors, not the kind gesture. That's not very like you at all."

"Keep it up and I'll keep your cloak for myself," Leon said.

"Now that sounds a lot more like the Leon I know," he said.

"When is the date?" Leon said suddenly.

"I don't have the calendar exactly. Third day of the week, or fourth."

"Of Valbar's wedding," Leon cut in.

"Delayed indefinitely, from what I last heard," Kamui said.

Leon closed his eyes tight. "How nice to know that I'm standing in the way of my closest friend's happiness once again."

The only sound was the spade against the dirt. There was quite a garden now. Kamui had transplanted in quite a few herbs, all with hopes that this one could cure Leon's condition.

His coughs were quiet, hidden away behind the mask.

Unfortunately, Kamui had no wisdom found in libraries for that. Leon sat on the ground and watched.

"What are you going to do after this?" Leon said.

"I've got to do some mercenary work, or I'll enjoy sleeping in the gutter tonight."

"What about your job helping train the troops?" Leon said.

"I took a leave of absence. Something was more important, I had to devoted my focus to that."

"Someone," Leon said.

Kamui nodded. "Someone."

"There's a spare room. Nothing but wooden boxes int here. It might take some work, but...well, it's open to you."

Kamui gave him a skeptical look. "Sure you could stand having me around that much?"

"If I can face down Duma, and even worse, unrequited love, I can handle having you around a little more than usual," Leon said.

"That's good, I was beginning to wonder how I'd scrounge up enough money to pay my bill at the inn."

"Who knows, you might even be useful," Leon said.

Kamui gave him a look. "Maybe I should've just stuck with the gutter. The trash and rats would probably be better company."

"Probably," Leon said. He couldn't quite keep back the laughter in his voice.

*

In the end, the spare room was too crowded to clear in a single night. He'd filled it up with projects. Cloth to be sold, wood to help with renovations, new curtains to be sold. All put on hold for a dream which might never come.

For some time, Leon's bed had been moved to the kitchen to be closer to the hearth.

The embers had burned low. Enough that he could see the outline of Kamui's body nestled between his dark green wool blankets.

"Kamui, tell me a story."

"You can't sleep?"

"No." Not with you this close like that. My mind keeps...wandering.

"Do you need something? A drink of water or tea?"

"Are you going to charge me?" Leon said dryly.

"Considering that you're giving me free rent? Not this time, at least. Are you feeling worse? Is that it?"

"I'm not feeling incredible, if that's what you mean. But I'm not coughing up blood right now, so that has to count for something."

"All right, all right...I'll think of something," Kamui said.

"Well....some people see a man on the moon, but my culture sees a rabbit."

"That's not a story, it's a slightly interesting fact," Leon said.

"So picky...fine. I'll tell you something else."

Kamui tapped his fingers on the side of Leon's cot as he began to speak.

"Once, there was a weaver named Zhinü and a shepherd named Niulang. They had a passionate, secret love affair. But it was forbidden. They were banished to opposite sides of the starry river in the heavens. But, on the seventh day of the seventh month. A bridge of magpies would make it so they could reunite, but only for one day."

Kamui paused for a moment, to catch his breath. Leon was rapt as he waited for the next part of the story.

"And then?" Leon said.

"And then, every day they would wait and count down the seconds until they could see each other again. Every day they would stare across the heavenly river until the moment they could meet. It's actually celebrated as a holiday in some places," Kamui said.

"Did you celebrate it?" Leon said.

"I was a shepherd. Shepherds don't get holidays. They're too busy watching the animals and making sure they don't get eaten by wolves. You see--in shepherding, you spend whole seasons in the mountains doing nothing but watching the sheep. We'd get brought supplies, and not leave those mountains until it got too cold to remain any longer. Then we'd have drive the sheep down into the valleys to be sheared."

"Waiting a year just to see the person you love...Just imagine..."

"You're such a romantic," Kamui said.

"That I can't deny," Leon said.

"One day when you're feeling well enough, I'll show you the constellations that symbolize them. Vega and Altair."

Maybe it was too much to plan, to hope, but Leon still said "I'll look forward to it."

"How did they meet? How did they fall in love?"

"I never heard that part of the story," Kamui said.

"I bet the weaver saw the shepherd being so gentle with his animals that she fell completely in love with him."

Kamui snorted at that.

"I can tell you've never been a shepherd. It depends on what you're herding, but some of those animals have it out for you. Let me tell you, I barely survived the months I herded those goats. They're ornery as hell. Only mules are worse."

"And you're telling me you didn't get attached to any of those cute little creatures?"

"Cute little creatures? I once had a goat try and eat my hat! I got so many sunburns because I couldn't go down the mountains for one. But...Okay, the dogs they had there were really smart. They really kept the animals in line. And they'd like to curl up with us when it started to get colder. I used to save some of my meals for one. They called him Stripe."

"See, it's not so far-fetched, now is it?"

"Maybe," Kamui said.

Leon reached out his hand.

"Scoot closer, would you?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Always."

He laced his fingers in with Kamui's, and held tight to that warmth.

"You can let go once I fall asleep. But until then, just stay. All right?"

Kamui's thumb traced along the back of his palm and that touch sent a shudder through his skin.

"All right," Kamui said.

*

The room was suffused with the scent of burning herbs and brewing breakfast. It was, admittedly, a wonderful scent to wake to. Leon sat up and stretched in a languid manner.

The light poured in, surrounded by the gilded edged curtains, red like the dawn. Kamui reached up and tied the last one taut.

"My, my. That's going to cost me."

"I'll put it on your tab," Kamui said wryly.

He felt a strange warmth. Like he'd already drank the tea. And even more, the breath he took came easy.

He tried again, tentatively, only to find he could breathe clearly, and easily. It was so simple that he'd almost forgotten how simple it was to not be aware of one's breathing. How it felt to not struggle each and every time.

He was used to shallow breaths which wouldn't drive the stems and thorns deep into his lungs. This time, there was no pain. In the morning light, realized that he could breathe. He took another tentative breath. No flower petals came up, with the bile that always burned his throat. His lungs were still tender, from years of scarring, and he still was a bit weak as he stood up form bed.

Each breath didn't tickle his throat, and fill him with nausea. He couldn't even feel the thorns anymore.

He could no longer deny this, and claim it was just a good day, and that the symptoms would surely return. He knew now, viscerally, that the flowers had gone.

It made no sense. Nayush was long dead, his body rotted down to bones. Valbar was planning his wedding. He was just as alone as ever.

No, that wasn't true. Over the embers he could see that now quite familiar figure. Kamui would slip in and out of his house, as silent as he could to keep Leon from waking.

Kamui who had climbed mountains to find something just to heal him. Who had planted a whole garden, and stayed.

Had the herbs worked that well? Was Kamui right all along?

In the pot, some sort of concoction boiled down. The house was filled with drying herbs hung from the ceiling. All additions from Kamui. His house looked more like the house of a an apothecary. Far be it from what he imagined his house would look like. Still, it was comforting somehow.

Leon propped himself up in bed.

He looked at Kamui like he'd seen him for the first time. The mask obscured half his face. There was dirt beneath his nails and his hands were stained green. He took a step closer, first unsteady, then more sure.

Kamui reached out instinctively to catch him. His touch lingered at Leon's arm.

"I had gloves on when I put up your curtains. Don't worry; I didn't leave a stain."

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking it."

"You can read minds now?" Leon said wryly.

"Let's just say I'm accustomed to your...comments."

"As you should be," Leon said.

"Anyways, I boiled up some new tea for you. It might be bitter, so I got some honey when I was up in the mountains. I remembered you liked sweet things. That might make it more palatable."

"Yes, you always used to give me whatever sweet rations or food we found on the battlefields, because you couldn't stand them," Leon said.

He thought back to the battlefield. Strange to be almost nostalgic to be on the brink of death and battle, but there had been good times too. That guard night hadn't been the first time Kamui loaned his cloak to Leon.

And it came, a small little thought that he hadn't even acknowledged. It was always you, wasn't it?

He hadn't even seen this coming. Yes, he'd been breathing better in the past few days, but he'd chalked it up to being a good day. Yes, he hadn't thought of Valbar that much in these past few days, but he'd been (verbally) sparring with Kamui, so that drowned out the rest.

The pain, the unhappiness, everything.

Suddenly, he couldn't remember any of the reasons why he ever thought the idea of falling in love with Kamui was so bad. He wasn't Valbar, but he had his own feline grace and handsomeness in his own right. He'd gone to lengths that not even the most romantic of fairy tales could imagine. To be honest, Valbar had some serious competition for the man of this generation.

For Valbar, even in all his kindness, hadn't even gone to such lengths to find a cure like Kamui had.

Not that Leon would've admitted this a year ago, or even a month ago.

Leon slowly undid Kamui's mask and let it fall to the floor.

"Leon, you--"

In fairy tales, a kiss solved all problems. And it wasn't as if Leon had any better ideas--or any clue to what the hell was happening, for that matter. He reached out, and brought Kamui's mouth to his own.

Kissing him was so easy. They fit together so well, the warmth of his mouth, and firmness of his body so close. And when he breathed through his nose, his lungs filled and it was so wonderful.

To feel human contact, to be able to breathe without pain was something he'd almost completely forgotten. The dizziness of this deep passion, that was so wonderfully new. And something he'd never get used to. Kamui's arms enclosed about him, and held him tight, even cherished against him. There was such wonder and confusion in his gaze when Leon pulled away.

He was still alive, despite it all. And now, with no thorns digging into his body. He recognized all the damn clear signs he had excused away.

"Dammit, Kamui! You went and made me fall for you. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you for that, you know."

"Wait, what did you say?"

"You heard me. Did you think I was just randomly kissing you because I was bored?"

His palm rested on Kamui's chest. Each rise, and fall were even and not labored.

"You'd think that there'd be some kind of glow or aura. But it just--happens. It just gets easier."

"What, falling in love?"

"That too," Leon said.

"You really did figure out a way to save me in the end," Leon said softly.

"Still don't know how that happened. It feels like I stumbled into it. Tripped over a root and here I am, face first into--something. Love, I guess."

"That's a pretty good summary of what happened to both of us," Leon said.

"You ready for tea?" Kamui said.

"That sounds good. I'm famished, actually."

"You haven't been eating much."

"The nausea was terrible there for a while," Leon said.

Kamui nodded. "Mint tea when you can take it."

"So, you're just going to push tea on me for every ache and pain like an elderly fussy grandmother?"

"You'd expect any different?" Kamui said.

"Good point," Leon said.

Leon smiled to himself. Kamui busied himself in making the tea to hide his blush. Leon watched on. Kamui gave him so many reasons to fall further and further in love.

*

Outside, the sound of a spade drew him out, steaming cup in hand.

Kamui brushed dirt from his face with his forearm. He smiled as he caught sight of him.

"You're not supposed to eat dirt, you know," Leon said.

Kamui gave him a look. "It gets everywhere. Maybe I should've put on gloves. Anyways, you said you wanted a handsome gardener," Kamui said. "So here you go."

"You're expanding the herb garden now?" Leon said.

"You wanted flowers, so you're getting flowers."

"So, gardener, do I get any say in this on what actually goes in my gardens? Or do I just get to be an admiring bystander?"

"Right after these," he said.

"Lavender?"

"They smell nice. Very calming."

"They soothe the nerves and help you fall asleep. Of course, even if not, I'd want some."

Kamui cleared his throat and focused on the plants, his hands knuckle deep in dirt. "Because they remind me of you."

"You find me soothing?" Leon said. He was on the verge of laughing right there. Soothing was one word never applied to him, and especially not by Kamui.

"Not even a little. It's the color," Kamui said.

Leon chuckled. "I see, I see. I suppose after this, we could go to the market. There's got to be some seeds for sale."

"You probably have it all planned out," Kamui said.

"Actually, no. I really didn't think I'd live long enough. It was all vague daydreams that I figured would never come to fruition."

"Well, whatever your dreams are, let me know. I'll do my best to make them a reality," Kamui said.

"Will you, now?" Leon said.

"I'll try, at the very least," Kamui said.

"After that, we should probably go visit Valbar and convince him to put his wedding back on. We've certainly worried him enough. Although, I feel like an 'i told you so' is coming."

"From me?"

"No, from Valbar. Though, I'm sure you have plenty of 'I told you so and so' to come."

"Oh, right," Kamui said.

Leon nodded.

"Well, we've almost died a dozen times or more. I figure we can survive one 'I told you so.'"

"If just barely," Leon said.

"Fighting Duma again would be more preferable than that?"

"Definitely," Leon said.

*

The training room bustled with noise. They'd expanded since last time, and added more targets, more weapons on racks at the walls, and more training dummies. It was silenced, however, with one booming command from Valbar. He sent the troops off on another lap, and headed right to the door frame the minute he saw Leon.

"Leon! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Weeks, maybe," Leon said.

"Leon, you sure you're up to being up and about?"

"I'm feeling quite a bit better, actually."

"Kamui, you don't got that mask on," Valbar said.

"A shame, it was rather fetching," Leon said.

Kamui frowned. "I guess I could start wearing it again if you wanted..."

"Wait a minute..." Valbar looked from Kamui to Leon.

"I don't plan to be dying anytime soon," Leon said, as lightly as he could manage.

"But, about the disease--"

"It's gone. Kamui found a cure. A rather surprising one, at that."

"A surprise, huh? That's sure a relief. I thought I'd be the end of you both, and have to watch you both get buried. So that whole thing was just a legend, and you got the herbs to fix it?"

"You could say that," Leon said carefully.

Really, this didn't go quite how he planned. But, that wasn't quite unexpected. Valbar had very few flaws, but one of them was a certain...blindness to Leon's proclivity, or his feelings about him. Even when Leon had been oh so very blatant.

He patted Valbar on the arm. His ever-present thick brown armor was cool to the touch.

"You need to begin planning your wedding again, Valbar. I'll even help plan it, if that lady of yours doesn't mind the company."

"Oh, I'm sure she'd be glad for it. Anyone would. You got all kinds of style. Are you sure you'll be okay about all this?"

"Yes, actually. I'm good--better than I've ever been. Better than I've been in years, in fact."

Would he have to outright say it? He glanced to Kamui. Kamui lifted one eyebrow. Leon touched to his lips, a wordless conversation. Kamui nodded, so subtly that Valbar didn't even notice.

Valbar was too lost in his own happiness and relief that he didn't even see the subtle changes.

*

When the door closed behind them, and they were far enough down the cobblestone road, Kamui turned to Leon.

"You aren't going to tell him?"

"Not just yet."

"What, are you ashamed?"

"Of my desires? Never. Of you? That would depend on how you act after several glasses of wine. Of us? No, not even a little. Perhaps I'm still surprised how it all went down, but it certainly isn't shame or regret."

"Then, why keep it quiet?"

"I just wanted you to be completely my little secret for just a bit longer."

"Well, I'm completely yours, so it's halfway, I guess." It came out a bit abashed.

Leon smiled. "You're cute when you're trying to be affectionate. You always get embarrassed halfway through and try and pass it off as nothing."

Kamui reached out to bring him closer, and wrap his arm about his shoulder.

"It's not like I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, you know?"

"Well, that makes two of us. You don't have much experience loving someone; I don't have a lot of experience with being loved back. A perfect place to meet in the middle, don't you think?"

He laced his fingers in Kamui's larger, more calloused hands. "So we'll take it day by day."

"That sounds good. What do you think about violets?"

"Changing subjects to hide your blush, hmm?"

"You said day by day. And today you wanted to go plant hunting."

"Another purple flower? You do seem to have an obsession with that color," Leon said teasingly.

Kamui cleared his throat. "Well, you could say that..."

"Violets are lovely, but oh do they take over a garden. Maybe in the front flower boxes. With white shutters, they would look quite lovely. And it'd be such window dressing to the fashions in the window."

"I could dig some up outside, if you want to save the money. They grow all over in the wilds," Kamui said.

"Unlike you, I certainly don't mind spending the money. Then again, I suppose that's a good balance to have when running a shop."

"You plan to make me part of the shop?"

"Of course! Someone needs to carry the supplies."

They walked down the street together. Bustling, happy people passed by. The noise of the shops had just begun to fade.

"Now, I believe you promised me some violets?"

"I'll go get the spade," he said.

"That reminds me, I need to get some supplies to fix up this place. My dreams of a shop were rather--put on hold, for a while. And to start stocking up merchandise... And, there's an old couple nearby selling their land. They're moving down south, it's far too cold. You know how it is."

"Hnnn. I'll have to do a bunch more mercenary jobs for that. Though I'll make sure to carve out enough time to help you with the fixing. Maybe I'll need to borrow King Alm's Mila time travel powers."

"You'd buy it for me? And completely help with the renovating? I was just making idle conversation."

"I'd at the very least try," Kamui said.

"You're very handy, Kamui," he said.

Kamui gave him a look. "You don't have to sound so surprised."

"No, it's good to be surprised. You keep me on my toes...sometimes literally. Should I write this down in case one of us forgets?"

"That won't be a problem. I always remember things when it comes to you," Kamui said.

"I'll remember that one when you inevitably forget to get milk," Leon said playfully.

Kamui reached into his satchel and pulled out a bottle filled with white liquid.

"I hadn't even mentioned it--"

"Saw it was missing from the cold storage. Also, I figured to get it. Might help your body heal."

Leon clicked his tongue. "Oh, Kamui. What am I to do with you?"

"I could suggest plenty of things, but none of them would fit in a public street."

"None?" Leon leaned in. "I can think of one."

He cupped Kamui's cheeks and kissed him there, right in front of every passing person. And Kamui didn't draw away, or make an attempt at a denial. In fact, he held Leon close, without any fear what any passerby might think.

A brush with death did that to a person.

Really, he would never get used to that stunning feeling of warmth, or how he could feel up Kamui's strong broad back like this. Leon finally, reluctantly pulled away (for the king and queen would be none too happy if they went so far in a public street.) But he lingered there, cupping Kamui's face like he might kiss him just once more. The new dark stubble on Kamui's face was rough to the touch.

Kamui licked his lips. "Hey, I'm--I'm glad you lived. More than anything."

"Well, I'm glad I lived too. And that you did. You know, I look forward to fighting with you for the rest of my life," Leon said.

Kamui smiled. "Me too."