Thread:Jaguar Satake/@comment-34158552-20190627220854/@comment-34158552-20190703001838

The candles gave off a warm glow, flickering gently and serenely in the moonlit room. Anyone else would have found it to be calming and relaxing, perfect for falling asleep, but Akira was wide awake and had been for hours. The sound of the occasional stirring of the breeze against the windows tried in vain to drag him into sleep; his eyelids were no heavier than they had been during the day. He knew he should sleep – there was to be more training tomorrow – and that he should be tired from all the mock duels and hand-to-hand combat sessions with his father. But he wasn’t, and he continued to lay there, gazing up at the wooden ceiling.

He glanced over at the clock, which read a few minutes after eighteen – just past midnight. Finally giving up on sleeping, he got out of bed and got dressed, taking his companion sword from under his pillow. He pulled a few splinters out of his feet before putting on his sandals – small splinters, and he was used to them by now, but they were quite a nuisance.

After wiggling his feet through the sandal straps – it was becoming more of a struggle than it should be – he stood up and crept towards the door. The floorboards creaked under his feet, and he flinched, his stomach clenching at the thought of waking the other ronin. For a moment, he didn’t move, listening carefully for any signs that he’d aroused Zuma or Jomei. When he heard nothing, he continued, stepping carefully across the floor until he finally came to the sliding door.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the door open and stepped out into the hall. He looked both ways and, seeing no one, walked in the direction of the courtyard. He held his breath when he passed Devesh’s room, but the door never flew open and he was never roared at. Success.

Upon reaching the main hall, he stopped worrying about being quiet and quickened his step, leaping out into the courtyard. At its heart was a koi pond with a towering samurai statue in the center – Akira knew it to be a statue built in the honor of Daimyo Tokunaga, their late lord. It had been built during his reign, when this place was a samurai school, and radiated power. Akira walked around to the front of it and looked up, meeting its harsh eyes. It was almost like it–

A sudden, very loud yell right in his ear, and someone grabbed him from behind. He instinctively went for a kick but quickly realized he was being hugged, not attacked, and that this was his father.

“Why are you up so late, buddy?” his father asked, letting go of him. “Did we not train enough?”

“I can’t sleep,” Akira said, feeling the eyes of the statue on him. “I don’t know why.”

“Your old man can’t sleep either,” his father said.

He squinted at the statue. “Tokunaga-sama would say to train more. But I’m feeling more like going down to the tavern.”

Casting a glance at Akira’s sandals, he added, “You need new sandals just as much as I need sake. Come on. We’re going to Nebula.”

He started in the direction of the hovership, but Akira hesitated.

“This late at night?”

“It’s morning, actually,” his father called back. “Come on!”

“May I join you gentlemen?” an androgynous, oddly mature voice inquired.

Akira was used to Loki randomly popping out of the shadows – otherwise, he would have had a heart attack. The ageless shapeshifter – and his best friend since the day he was born – scampered across the courtyard in the form of a field mouse before morphing into an impish little boy.

“Of course you can come,” Akira’s father said. “But no stealing.”

“But I like stealing,” Loki said, hurrying after him. “Hearts, that is.”

Akira followed too, and the banter continued.

“Hearts, huh?” his father said. “What, do you sell organs on the black market now or something?”

“No,” Loki corrected, “I meant I’m loved.”

“Sure you are,” Akira’s father said sarcastically. “By absolutely no one.”

They all knew he was kidding, and the smile proved it. He loved Loki just as much as he loved Akira.