Night fell and Yuriko offered you the stable with the ox and the stallion to sleep in. She and Tanaka shared a room and the samurai slept in the pantry.

The sky had darkened, not only because of the night but also because it would soon start to rain. It smelled of the drops, lightning and thunder.

The stable would have been enough to sleep for a few hours, but for some reason you couldn't get any rest.

"I'll share a room with him.", you finally decided as Yuriko carried a blanket and Tanaka a futon into your room.

"What if he makes you sick?", he asked, glancing at the samurai. "He is sweating profusely, his cheeks are red."

"He has a fever because his body is weakened. As soon as he has recovered from the blood loss it will go down."

"And if not?"

Yuriko nudged her husband with one foot and shook her head with a warning look.

"If she wants to sleep with him then let her.", she just said and laid out everything you needed for the night. "If there are any problems in the night, wake me up."

You nodded with a smile.

"I don't think so, but thank you.", you whispered back.

Also smiling, she left the room behind her husband and closed the door behind her. Only small candles illuminated your view.

Golden strands of fire kissed the samurai's pale face. His lips were no longer blue in colour, but a thousand little pearls sparkled on his forehead.

He was sweating profusely, but when you lay down next to him and pressed a hand to his cheek, at least he was no longer as cold as a corpse.

You carefully lifted the blanket under which he was lying. Blood-soaked bandages wrapped his upper body. In some places, the skin began to turn slightly yellow and blue in colour.

Haematomas and swelling were a good sign. That meant he was still alive and his body was trying to heal itself. Light breaths escaped his lips.

He had full lips, the lower one rounder and poutier than the upper one. A neatly trimmed beard of black hair framed the rest of his face.

You hadn't seen the rest of him yet, but you surmised that his eyes were brown like Yuriko's and Tanaka's. Lost in thought, you stroked a strand of his black hair from his sweaty forehead.

He was handsome. Different from the Mongols, gentler. Like someone you went to in the dark because you felt safe with him.

"Lord Sakai.", you whispered as you lay down next to him on your own futon. "I wonder if Yuriko's words are true. Are you a saviour? And if so, what do you consider worth saving?"

Tiredness plagued your eyes. For the first time since you fled, you felt safe enough to sleep.

When was the last time you slept in a real bed?

Under a safe roof with people you don't detest?

You had been awake for two days now, only closing your eyes from time to time when the horse had walked slowly. Every time you were afraid that the Mongols would turn up. They were probably less than a day away.

But at that moment, you felt safe enough to close your eyes and let your mind rest.

Darkness had fallen over the house when you suddenly woke up in the darkest night. You didn't know why your body decided it was time to get up, but for a moment you stayed awake.

Your attention fell on the samurai again.

His eyes were still firmly closed. He was breathing calmly, not moving. Out of curiosity, you reached out to touch his cheek. Scratchy stubble caressed your (S/C) skin.

Exhaling deeply, you close your eyes again. Your hand was still against his skin, sweaty and warm. At last he began to feel like one of the living again.

You open your eyes again to lift the blanket. The bandages would have to be washed soon. Blood had soaked into the fabric.

The skin around the wounds had turned blue and was already turning purple. It would hurt like hell as soon as he woke up, maybe he wouldn't be able to sit for the first day or two.

As carefully as you could, you slid two fingers under the bandage to lift it. His muscles twitched under the touch of your warm skin. The wounds looked good, not perfect but not infected either.

The stitching could have been better but you had done a makeshift job and there had been few other options. Flesh was already starting to grow back together.

You would clean everything up tomorrow and apply new bandages. With a satisfied hum, you let everything slide back into place and then lay down again, one arm tucked under your head.

You opened your eyes one last time. Surprised, a soft gasp escaped your lips.

A pair of eyes looked at you, so dark in the night that they appeared black. Visibly tired and a little confused, the samurai looked at you, his gaze travelling over your face, down over your neck and all the way into the base of your neckline, which was very low in Yuriko's ill-fitting kimono.

Then he looked up at you again and swallowed hard. He seemed to be in pain.

"Who... are you...?", his voice was rough, raspy but also somehow warm.

You looked at him silently for a moment. He was awake. And he was strong enough to speak, even if the words were slow and difficult.

"I... I'm not Mongolian.", you whispered, holding your breath. His eyebrows drew together.

"I see...", his eyes travelled over your face again. "We..."

"Don't know each other.", you tried to smile but were still too upset to form proper sentences. "You're alive."

His eyes closed tiredly and he sighed.

"Am I?", he moved to raise an arm but you stopped him.

"Do not move. The wounds could tear open."

"Wounds...", his eyes wandered through the darkness. "My sword..."

"It's safely hidden."

"The beach..."

"Why don't you rest? We can talk tomorrow. About everything."

"Everything... Yes...", his eyes were already closed again when he turned his head in your direction. "Who... are you actually...?"

A thin smile appeared on your lips.

"No Mongol.", you turned on your back.

He laughed softly.

"No Mongol... does... no Mongol have a name...?"

Tired, you sighed.

"(Y/N).", you whispered into the darkness.

"(Y/N)...", he repeated wearily, already caught half asleep. "I... am... in your debt..."

"Perhaps. And who are you?"

He sighed.

"Jin..."