Chapter Text
Five years had passed since Jin drove the Mongols from the shores of Tsushima and the shogun’s men started hunting him. It had been a hard five years, especially toward the beginning. Being on the run constantly had taken a toll on him which was apparent in the new grey hairs he had sprouting at his temples. He felt like he’d aged a decade since it all started.
It had gotten easier, though. The people of Tsushima never forgot what The Ghost did for them. When the shogun sent a new jito to replace Lord Shimura and started doling out estates to mainland samurai , no one sold him out, though the reward for his head had been worth a small fortune. Every ride into every village saw him leaving with more food and supplies than he’d ridden in with, things unasked for and given to him freely. It was humbling, and it took a great burden off of his shoulders. But he never took for granted that the gifts might one day stop. So he worked as hard as he could to provide for the people and to protect them against threats that the new samurai wouldn’t.
Yuna had been by Jin’s side for all of it. He hadn’t asked for that either, but it was the one thing he was most thankful for. He could hunt his own food if he needed to. He could steal supplies from lords in the night. But he couldn’t provide himself with the companionship Yuna gave him. She had been there for him when no one else had, not even his own family. She’d held him in the night when he had dreams that left him shaking and she never thought less of him for it. She’d saved his life more times than he could count. She called him out when he was being stupid and made sure he took care of himself in addition to caring for everyone around him. Yuna’s presence was a gift from the kami and Jin made sure to thank them every day that they’d chosen to let him fall into her hands after Komoda Beach all those years ago.
He’d asked her one night while they were deep into a cask of sake why she stayed with him after all these years. There was a price on her head as well as his, but if she left Jin on Tsushima, the shogun and his men would leave her be. He was the real target. She didn’t have to keep putting herself into danger for his sake. It had almost caused a fight. She had become very annoyed with him and told him that she was her own woman who could make her own choices, and that if she wanted to stay with a bastard like Jin, he couldn't stop her.
She loves you, you fool, he’d realized that night. As much as you love her.
After that night, he never questioned her decision again. He would not cast aspersions on her judgment, nor would he drive her away from him because of his need to feel like a martyr. Yuna could make her own decisions and he would have her as long as she would have him.
It was in the third year after the defeat of the Mongol forces when Ishikawa of all people confronted him about it.
“You’re not getting any younger,” he said gruffly. “And Yuna’s a fine woman. Not samurai , but neither are you anymore.”
Jin nearly dropped his bow in shock. Ishikawa (long rumored to be a woman-hater) had never married himself. In fact, he seemed to think that the petty squabbles of romance were beneath him. He was the last person Jin expected to broach the topic.
“I cannot marry,” Jin said. “What kind of life would I have to offer?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Sakai,” the old samurai replied. “She knows she isn’t going to be a samurai wife with an estate and a brood of children to run after. She seems perfectly content with the life you have now.”
And it was true. Yuna never once complained about constantly being on the run. In fact, she frequently joked that she was better fed now as a fugitive than she had been before she got wrapped up in samurai politics. She had a roof to sleep under, a full belly, and a man to warm her futon at night. She told Jin she didn’t need much more than that.
“She’s never expressed any interest,” Jin said, trying to ignore the heat blooming in his cheeks.
“Maybe not to you,” Ishikawa replied.
“She’s mentioned a desire to marry?”
“Not to me either,” Ishikawa said. “I doubt she’ll have said anything to anyone. But I watch the two of you when you’re here training. I see the way you look at each other. You used to make the same eyes at that wild friend of yours when you were boys. You weren’t discreet then and you aren’t discreet now.”
Jin wanted to sink into the earth.
“But you’re too old for that nonsense,” Ishikawa continued. “And frankly, it’s annoying to watch. Stop hesitating and take your shot.”
He’d waited another two years before doing anything. He was more careful now, taking the time to watch and wait before rushing into things. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.
The full moon hung low in the sky, filling the night around them with a warm yellow glow. It was nearing the end of summer and the fireflies danced around them as they rode toward Old Yarikawa. Yuna was in high spirits as she raced him to the Garden of the Gods and Jin grinned in the dark as he chased after her.
They dismounted, Yuna leading Naoki and Kaze off to graze as Jin spread an old cloak on the ground. Yuna came back as he knelt before the triple-headed Buddha and said a silent prayer. Yuna knelt beside him, imitating his posture.
“I haven’t prayed in forever,” she whispered. “Not since I was a child. I don’t remember how.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “Just be present. The kami will feel it and the Buddha will know what’s in your heart.”
Jin was silent, reflecting on the events of his life that led him to this moment. As a boy, he had his whole life ahead of him, planned out from the moment of his birth. And now he was drifting rudderless, not ever sure if he would wake up the next morning. But he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been alone for quite some time.
“Why did we come here, Jin?” Yuna asked.
Jin opened his eyes. In the moonlight, with the fireflies dancing around her, Yuna looked ethereal.
“Yuna,” he began. “I owe you my life ten times over. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”
She remained silent, eyes searching his face cautiously. Jin reached over and took one of her hands in his own. It was smaller than his, but just as calloused and rough. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss into her fingertips.
“I wish I could give you more,” he said. “You deserve a better life than the one we have. I would give you a grand estate, fine silks to wear, the best food to eat, and hundreds of servants at your disposal if I could. But all I can give you is this.”
He gestured to the open air around them. The horses whinnied in the distance as they grazed. An owl called out overhead as it swooped by. And the fireflies danced on.
“I don’t want anything else,” Yuna said. “Just you.”
Jin smiled and lowered his eyes to the hand he held.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “I don’t know how many years we’ll have left, but I don’t want to waste them. We’ve wasted so many already.”
He dropped her hands and reached for a parcel he had slung from his obi . He unwrapped it, revealing a chipped set of sake cups, a small tokkuri , and one rice ball wrapped in a bamboo leaf.
“Traditionally, the sake should be warmed,” he said. “And there should be more than a rice ball, but it’s all we had.”
“Jin,” Yuna began.
He looked up and saw her eyes sparkling. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words were caught in her throat.
“Let’s eat,” she finally said.
They passed the rice ball between them, taking a bite each until there was nothing left. Then Jin poured sake for her and she poured for him. They drank together until the tokkuri was empty. Then, Jin and Yuna lay down on the cloak. They undressed each other slowly and made love under the watchful eyes of the gods. When they were finished, they lay together letting the moon bathe over their naked bodies.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Yuna said softly. “But I’m glad you did.”
“I know I didn’t have to,” Jin said. “But I wanted to. It won’t mean much to anyone else, but it means something to me.”
“I never thought I’d have a samurai for a husband,” Yuna mused. “Even an ex- samurai .”
“Nor I, a thief wife,” Jin said. “But here we are.”
“Yes,” Yuna said, tracing circles on his chest with her fingers. She sounded happier than she’d been in a long while. “Here we are.”