The fading light cools the brilliant shades of orange and pink of the sky into pale yellow and deep purple, and as it retreats into the horizon, it gives way to the deep blue and black of the night. Any moment now, the first stars will awaken.
It’s so quiet.
Kochi blinks furiously, fighting against the darkness that still looms at the edges of his vision even when he comes to. He’s lying on the ground and hurting everywhere. The sky is beautiful. If he manages to last a bit longer, then maybe he’ll get to see the stars for the last time before he’ll be gone for good.
Wonder what happened to the others. Who won?
The last he saw of Juri and Shintaro was them galloping into the fight along with the other horsemen, screaming devastation and death, their armors and swords shining in the bright rays of the setting sun.
And Jesse and Taiga. Did their bows sing victory or doom? Did the arrows find their targets as planned?
What a pity that someone else’s found him.
Kochi coughs a couple times and pain sparks through his whole body. A metallic taste remains in his dry mouth. Whether it’s coming from his lungs or somewhere else, he doesn’t really want to know. His clothes are cold, drenched with his own blood. He carefully avoids looking down. He doesn’t want to see the arrow that sticks up from his left shoulder. It’s enough that he feels it deep in his flesh.
There it is. The first star. Just a little more, and he’ll see Hokuto’s own constellation. Maybe that will be it? He’s fought valiantly and he gets to die under his favorite stars.
Even before he met Hokuto, Kochi always liked that funny ladle-shaped constellation. It was easy to recognize even for a small child. But once they met and became friends… He suppresses a sob, forcing himself to breathe in and out slowly. Crying will only make it hurt more.
Why is it so quiet? Surely someone should be cheering over their victory.
What if it was all in vain? If everyone on the both sides got killed, and nobody won?
If Juri, Shintaro, Jesse, Taiga, all of them… He can’t think about it.
If Hokuto- No. He can’t be.
Kochi never wanted to fight for any warlord. He only ever wished to farm land and breed quails. And he wanted Hokuto to be there with him.
It was always such a silly little dream that he had, ever since they were mere brats who happened to get to know each other and somehow even liked each other, against all odds.
Kochi loved to spend all his time out of the house, exploring the mountains whenever he could and returning home with his backpack full of things both pretty and interesting. On his thirtieth year Kochi was finally proud to think he probably knew the surrounding mountains and valleys better than anyone he knew.
Hokuto didn’t care much of the world outside of their own village, preferring to stay inside with his brush and ink. His father, a prominent merchant, had seen it wise to teach his both sons to read and write. Had Hokuto chosen so, he could easily have found an occupation as an assistant bookkeeper in the palace. But Hokuto didn’t want a life confined in the palace. He was content with a little life in their little village. Kochi was secretly thankful for Hokuto not moving into the palace.
Kochi loved all the seasons, all the plants, and all the animals, and even though Hokuto wasn’t much of an explorer, he loved to learn and know everything he ever could. Kochi admired him for that, and their conversations were always refreshing for the both of them.
As they grew together, that admiration grew into affection so slowly and naturally, Kochi isn’t sure when exactly his platonic friendship turned into romantic love. But he knows when he realized his feelings for what they were.
It was three days ago, when Kochi made a gloomy visit to Hokuto’s home. His parents had once again been pestering him to finally settle down with some nice girl.
“But I don’t want to,” Kochi said firmly, heart making a hopeful leap at the widening of Hokuto’s eyes. “I just want to be with you.”
Hokuto never got to answer him, because on that moment a horse-riding messenger from the palace arrived at their village and demanded everyone’s attention. Once the villagers, Kochi and Hokuto along with everyone else, had gathered at the central clearing, the messenger announced their lord’s war against another lord. Every eligible man was to immediately start preparing themselves for battle and wait for the next command.
“It’s not fair,” Hokuto said in a chocked-up voice when the messenger was gone, having left the people bustling with nervous anticipation.
Kochi knew what Hokuto meant. He looked at his five best friends who answered his gaze with equal anxiety. None of them were properly trained fighters. Sure, some of them were equipped better than the others, and they all more or less knew how to use weapons for hunting. But Kochi wasn’t great at it, and Hokuto was utter rubbish at wielding a sword or spear.
“It’s not fair.”
Kochi put a reassuring hand on Hokuto’s shoulder, squeezing it hard and gathering courage as much as offering it.
“We’ll make it through,” he said in the gentlest voice he could. “All of us. You’ll see.”
But he was wrong.
He didn’t make it through. He won’t.
Kochi swallows again. It hurts so much, and it doesn’t get any easier to breathe.
But, he slowly realizes, it’s not getting any worse, either.
He blinks at the sky again. It’s completely dark now, and the stars are out. Hokuto’s constellation shines bright directly above him. He is still in this world. His chest is still rising and lowering with his strained breaths. His heart is still frantically beating in his chest. The stars are beautiful.
Hokuto believed him when he promised they would all make it. He knows, because Hokuto has always trusted his words. Kochi would never lie to him, and Hokuto knows it.
Is Kochi going to betray his trust now by dying on this damned meadow?
Grunting in anger and mustering up all his strength, Kochi wrenches himself to his right side, supporting himself with his arm. A sharp pain in his left shoulder makes him groan, and he feels a gush of warmth from the newly flowing blood.
He has to stay there for a long time before he dares to move again, but slowly, painstakingly, he manages to sit up and look around.
He can’t see much anymore, but he senses the destruction around him. Even without seeing he knows there are dead bodies everywhere.
He feels his skin raising on goose bumps. Is there anyone else alive on this meadow, ally or enemy? Can he be the only one? And will he last until morning, or shall the new sunrise see him as cold and unmoving as everyone else around him?
Kochi wants to yell for help, but he doesn’t dare, in case his lord is the one who lost.
He pats the ground around him with his right hand, trying to investigate his surroundings. The grass is sticky with blood where he was lying down earlier. He moves on quickly.
When he reaches behind, his hand meets the back and the rump of a horse. One-handedly patting its saddle and fur in the dark, Kochi can’t tell who it might have belonged to. The poor animal is definitely dead, but its body is still warm, and Kochi drags himself backwards so he can rest against the horse. A faithful steed’s last service to a human.
He is thirsty, but he isn’t carrying any water with himself. His mind feels foggy again.
Where’s Hokuto? Is he alive? And the others? Is there anyone left who might come find him?
Shivering in the cold breeze, Kochi curls up against the waning warmth of the dead horse. He doesn’t want to give up, but he is so tired.
What if his friends are alive but aren’t coming because think they already lost him?
No.
One thing is for sure. If Hokuto is alive, he will come to find him.
He closes his eyes and thinks about the expression Hokuto had on his face when Kochi insisted he wanted to live with him, and he knows.
Hokuto would have said yes.
~
He doesn’t know how much time has passed the next time he opens his eyes. He isn’t sure what awakened him either, but he is still painfully alive. The darkness around him is deeper, but his mind feels clearer after a moment of rest despite the pulsating pain and the unrelenting thirst.
The wind carries a faint noise with it. Somewhere, there is someone screaming. Kochi freezes, barely daring to breathe.
Friend or foe? And are they trying to help someone, or calling help for themself?
The person screams again, a bit closer this time, and when it continues, it becomes clear that they are walking, crying out for someone. Small spots of light ignite far across the meadow, and more voices join the first. Whoever they are, they are carrying torches with them.
A spark of hope flutters in Kochi's heart when the people slowly come closer and he hears a familiar name being called. Wasn’t there someone named like that in their army? Not anyone he knows personally, but maybe from the neighboring village. He recognizes more names as the people keep searching for survivors.
Then-
“Kochi!”
“Kochi, are you here?”
Something between a sob and a whimper escapes his lips as his ears catch the familiar voices.
“Here,” he yells back, but winces as only a feeble mewl comes out of his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces the sound out of his lungs even through the sharp, stinging pain that deep breathing causes. “Hokuto, here!”
“Kochi? Kochi!”
“Here!”
And suddenly Hokuto is there. He storms to Kochi’s side and drops onto his knees in front of him. Close behind follows Juri, his wide-eyed face lit by the flickering torch he is carrying.
“Found you,” Hokuto says, and though Kochi can only see his dark silhouette against the brightness of the torch, he can hear the teary relief in his voice. “We’ve got you.”
Hokuto would never lie to him, either.
~
It’s a short, yet excruciating way to the nearby forest where a makeshift encampment has been put up for the survivors. Even with Hokuto and Juri on his both sides, Kochi can barely walk. He feels dizzy and can’t seem to keep his head up, let alone lift his legs. But his friends, though obviously tired, make sure his arms stay around their necks. They won’t let him go.
“Are you all right?” he manages to ask, though he’s terrified of the answer. “All of you?”
“Alive, mostly in one piece,” Juri assures him, and Kochi almost crumbles down. Can it be possible? That they really made it?
“What happened in the battle?”
“The enemy fled from the meadow into the southern valley, but they were blocked by the river. The water’s higher than usual this year and they couldn’t cross it. Our lord got what he wanted,” Hokuto says shortly. “Shintaro, Jesse, and Taiga stayed at the other camp. They aren’t a pretty sight but they will survive. Juri and I came back as soon as we could. Sorry it took us so long.”
“I knew you’d come.”
~
No matter how brave and stoic he decided to be, Kochi can’t stop a loud groan when someone with healing skills yanks off the arrow that was buried deep in his shoulder. He has never felt pain like that - not even when the same arrow first pierced him. Fresh blood flows again, but apparently it’s not going to be lethal. The arrow somehow missed the biggest artery. Hokuto is there with him the whole time, holding his hand in a tight grip, and Kochi squeezes back as the healer cleans and dresses the wound.
When Kochi finally gets to rest, both Hokuto and Juri promptly refuse to leave his side. Instead, they lay down with him in the middle, using two woolen blankets to cover all three of them. It’s surprisingly comfortable like that.
Juri, probably exhausted to the bone, is immediately out, but now that Kochi is finally safe, he can’t sleep. There is something important he needs to get out right now.
“I meant what I said at home. I want to be with you,” he whispers, because he’s done with subtlety. Narrowly escaping death seems to help at sorting out one’s priorities. A surprised inhale tells him that Hokuto is still awake and listening.
A shaky hand appears on Kochi’s cheek, gently caressing his still-aching head and bloodstained cheek.
“I really want to kiss you,” Hokuto murmurs, his voice fragile in a way Kochi isn’t used to hearing. Maybe Hokuto was as terrified at the thought of losing him as he was at the idea of losing Hokuto.
“What’s stopping you?”
The darkness around them rings with silence. Then there is the shuffle of Hokuto’s clothes as he leans closer.
The press of his lips on Kochi’s is soft and tentative, and Kochi’s heart aches with the bittersweet wish that it could have happened in some better time and better place. He carefully tilts his head and kisses Hokuto back.
“I want to be with you, too,” Hokuto murmurs after a while, and Kochi thinks about his favorite stars that shine somewhere above them though he can’t see them through the canopy of trees.
They weren’t signaling the end to him, but another beginning.