The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

By the time the army reached the town of Gilded Glade, it was nearly midnight.

The necessary breaks and random encounters with beast packs had doubled the journey, and there had been moments when they thought they'd have to camp in the wild once again. The sight of civilization made the army visibly relax—some couldn't help but tear up.

As the army waited on the outskirts, Lanling and Mainu went to meet with the guild leader responsible for the town. An hour later, they returned with permission for the army to camp for a week. Tomorrow, the townsfolk would be notified of the army's presence.

Haruki finally had the chance to satisfy his curiosity as he watched Lanling's servants set up the mansion-like tent.

It began with a simple-looking large cloth, and then two mages started inscribing runes all over the ground beneath the tent. While they worked, the servants brought in several crates and waited for the mages to finish.

Once the mages poured mana into the runes, lighting them up, the cloth began to move on its own, assembling itself. A few seconds later, the light faded, and the large tent was fully constructed. The servants immediately began carrying the crates inside, and Haruki followed.

The inside was exactly as he remembered—spacious, with a hardwood floor.

Haruki watched in awe as they took out miniature versions of various pieces of furniture, placing them in their designated spots before tapping a light blue stone on each one. The furniture then grew to its full size.

Before he could ask what the stone was used for, Haruki noticed one of the servants was missing. "Hey, where's your shortest one?"

His question made them freeze. Hesitant, they exchanged uncertain glances before one of them spoke. "A Black Python soldier breached the logistics lines and tried to escape. Gushi was caught." They both closed their eyes, unable to hide the pain. "Both of them fell in battle."

What Haruki had forgotten rushed back to him like a tide.

"Ah, I'm sorry..."

It was all he could manage.

The servants shook their heads, quietly continuing their tasks. They bowed to him once they were done and left the tent, leaving Haruki alone to wrestle with the tightness in his chest.

Half an hour had passed when Lanling entered.

Haruki sat absentmindedly in his usual seat, the back of his right hand resting against his cheek. Though his face appeared neutral, the wind around him seemed to grow restless, weakly disturbing his hair in an attempt to catch his attention. He didn't even register Lanling's arrival until his chin was gently caught and lifted.

"What are you thinking?" Worry laced Lanling's voice.

Haruki couldn't suppress the sigh he'd been holding in. "I've never been attached to anything before meeting you." He caught Lanling's hand, placing it on his cheek, and caressed his own face with it. "But seeing so many faces missing in the army... it's making me feel a bit... lost."

Lanling understood.

Wordlessly, he pulled a chair next to Haruki and sat down. From his ring, he conjured a white bottle with an exquisite floral design as a cork, along with two small shot glasses. He uncorked the bottle and poured the transparent liquid.

Haruki immediately caught the nostalgic scent of alcohol with a hint of sweetness. For a split second, his brows furrowed at the sharp pain threatening to overtake his mind. But having experienced it many times before, he'd become better at clearing his thoughts, and no memories disturbed him this time.

Lanling placed a cup in front of Haruki and held the other. Leaning back in his chair, he looked down at his drink. "There will be more in the future."

Haruki stared at his own cup, catching the double meaning in Lanling's words. There would be new faces in the future, just as there would be more death. He gave in to the urge to down the cup, the alcohol sliding easily down his throat, followed by a gradual burning in his chest as the intensity hit him.

"Good alcohol," he muttered before his brain could catch up.

Lanling chuckled, downing his own cup. He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, savoring both the taste and the effect.

He didn't respond to his mutterings. Instead, he silently refilled their cups, and they began to share a peaceful stillness.

Four shots later, after ten minutes of silence, Haruki finally spoke. "I need to be stronger..." His words slurred slightly as the alcohol gradually lessened his control over his body.

Lanling glanced at him, nostalgia flickering in his eyes. The alcohol was also beginning to affect his composure, he struggled to keep his calm facade so he simply nodded. "Mn. Me too."

Haruki chuckled, amused. "If you get any stronger, I won't be able to keep up."

Lanling smiled at the familiar words. "Good." Then, briskly, he downed another shot.

"I want you to keep chasing me."

Haruki's heart jolted. His eyes widened in surprise, looking almost comical as he stared at Lanling. It had been a while since his heart had raced like this, and the pounding in his chest seemed to sober him up a little.

"Okay..." He softly answered.

His cheeks flushed and his ears twitched. His lips pursed, trying to keep them from curving into an involuntary smile for no reason.

His mind spinning with one thought:

I feel like I'm falling again.

The silence lingered, but this time, a soft smile graced both of their faces, their cheeks now equally crimson.

One of them was clearly acting shy, holding his cup with both hands, occasionally giggling after sneaking a peek at the handsome man beside him.

He thought he was clever, but his glances were too obvious.

Lanling didn't call him out on it however. His heart fluttering at the sight, and the urge to pull him into bed stirred, but he held back, continuing to stay by Haruki's side to grieve the losses.

Sex was sex, and grieving was grieving.

He only wanted him and Haruki to feel good in sex, both mentally and physically.