Yuma walked with long, purposeful strides. It was all Shion could do to keep up with him. He seemed preoccupied, lost in silent thoughts he didn't see fit to give words to.

Shion stared at the broad back in front of him. The space between them was filled with such vast emptiness he halfway wished to be back with the soldiers. It was becoming more and more evident that, if Shion wanted conversation, he'd have to be the one to start it.

"It will be harvest-time soon, my lord," he began, rather helplessly.

The man in front of him nodded. "I have heard there will be a decent crop."

Feeling somewhat encouraged, Shion continued. "In the short time he spent here, Lord Kamui did all he could to ensure it-"

"It belongs to Hatori now. He is the one you should be addressing as 'lord' and crediting for it."

"Forgive me," Shion stammered. He paused for a moment to catch his breath.

Yuma turned towards him, frowning slightly. "I apologize for outpacing you. I did not notice how hard you were struggling to stay with me."

That concerned look was somehow appealing. Shion gazed at it for what was probably a bit too long before shifting his eyes away.

The man sighed. "In all honesty, Kamui did very well for this province. I hope, for your people's sake, they can continue what he started."

Yuma continued walking, this time with a slower pace. Shion hesitated in momentary deliberation before hurrying to his side. The man glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. His face was tanned rather dark, but he seemed to be blushing-

"How long do you expect it will be before Lord Hatori arrives?"

"Four or five days, I think." He glanced down at the sodden ground. "No doubt the damp weather and his demanding wife have conspired to put him behind."

"And what of you, my lord? Are you married as well?"

This time Yuma was most definitely blushing. Shion was sure of it.

"Not yet," he murmured.

"I take it Lord Hatori will not be bringing his wife here with him."

Yuma laughed, shaking his head. "Most definitely not."

Shion studied him carefully. Was this what Yuma was like when no one was watching him? When the burden of his rank had fallen away? He was so absorbed in these considerations he didn't immediately notice the gaunt figure who stood in front of them, blocking their path. Yuma's hand fell on the hilt of his sword.

"Out of our way, peasant." His voice dripped with warning.

"You are carrying something with you that is mine, and I would have it returned."

Shion froze. He knew the sound of that voice all too well. Trembling, he raised his eyes-

All he could see was Yuma's broad back interposed between them, blotting the man out from his vision.

"I find it odd that you dare say such a thing, considering this man came to you with money, asking to buy his freedom, and you took it from him. You have no claim on him any longer."

"He has no proof-"

"Did you think to ask where all that gold had come from?" Yuma's fingers curled and uncurled, testing at drawing his weapon. "Did you not think it rather odd he came with it all at once?"

"He'd been selling himself, my lord, for who knows how long."

"Selling himself?" Yuma laughed. The sound of it was unnerving, even to Shion, who huddled behind him. "That money came from your daimyo. It is recorded in his exchanges. If what you wish for is proof, I can most assuredly give it."

"You are not Kamui's man." Something like astonishment colored the apothecary's voice.

"Kamui is dead. I was sent in advance of Lord Hatori, and this man is under my protection. If you would not be branded a traitor, I suggest you get out of our way. The new daimyo will not be as forgiving as the old. Should I cut a man down in the streets, he will find it perfectly acceptable."

Yuma was absolutely terrifying. Shion was glad for it, at that particular moment, yet he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he somehow found himself at the other end of his threats.

"I will petition your lord, once he arrives-"

"Indeed. Feel free to do so." Yuma pushed Shion forward. "Walk. Now."

He pressed at him so insistently Shion never got the slightest glimpse of his old master.

"I do not like that man," the samurai muttered under his breath. "How long were you with him?"

"Ten winters."

"Ten-?" Yuma took a sharp breath, then exhaled heavily. "That is a long time, Shion."

"Yes, my lord. It is."

The encounter had left the man shaken. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword as though he was still expecting a fight.

"And your family, they-?"

"I do not have any, Lord Yuma. My mother died when I was born, and my father succumbed to an illness when I was but a boy." Shion glanced down at his pale fingers, wrapped tightly as though making a fist around the hilt's carved wood. "My lord, you are trembling-"

"I am angry, Shion. I cannot guess at what that man did to you. The idea of him making petitions against you is so hypocritical-"

"Please, Lord Yuma. The danger is past now. You are only going to hurt yourself, or else damage your sword."

Yuma smiled at him. "Are you concerned because you are a healer? Or because you are growing fond of me?"

Take care.

Teru's unasked-for advice circled around, unbidden, in his head.

"I would not see anyone come to harm," Shion answered slowly.

"Not even your old master?"

He silently shook his head.

"Then you are a far better man than I." He stared off into the distance. "Kamui was, as well. We would never have been fit for each other." There was a certain hint of sadness in his voice. Shion gazed at his fine face with its wistful expression and halfway wanted to offer some gesture of comfort-

Yuma lifted his hand from the hilt of his sword and began to stretch his cramped fingers. Splayed out like that, his hand seemed incredibly big.

"There," he sighed. "Are you satisfied now?"

Satisfied? No. He was not. Shion found himself blushing and was grateful when Yuma pressed on, seeming not to notice.