Chapter Text
Some men burn with the relentless passion of summer.
Others,
Remain frigid and distant as the winter silence.
Opposing in their cycle and yet,
Both can hear the same sparrows sing.
So,
Is it really so impossible that we might touch?
-
If you were to rein in your furious heat,
To reprise that more gentle warmth,
The kind which cradles life and smells of flowers.
And were I to thaw, just a little?
To grant you space to bloom.
Couldn't we meet in the springtime?
-
If not,
If you were to go on instead,
Until that fire inside of you burns itself out.
And if you were to set me back,
To the days that I spent reaping.
Then maybe you'll be there for my fall.
A man in a soldier's uniform fussed over the beginnings of a campfire. It looked like he was struggling.
He was on the tall side, judging by how he compared to the type 30 rifle propped up nearby. A lanky frame with long limbs and broad shoulders stood out despite the padding of winter clothes. Ragged scars stretched across the small portion of visible skin that peeked from between his hat and scarf, only serving to enhance his already handsome features rather than mar them. Though, perhaps that was just a personal opinion.
Either way, he must be a monster in a fight.
{ Monstrous, or just seriously bad at it. }
The man turned his head to voice a complaint, and a small girl in a thick layer of furs came to salvage his work. He tucked his chin deeper into the oversized scarf to poorly hide his pout as she scolded him -the tone clear in her frown though inaudible from this distance.
Ogata's lip twitched at the sight. He wasn't usually the type to think of people as cute, especially not some grown man, but this guy had a particular charm about him. Innocence, almost. Despite all evidence.
He angled the binoculars back to their captive, stripped shirtless to reveal the tattoos of one of Abashiri's escaped convicts. Ogata hadn't managed to scope them out in time to see how he'd gotten captured, but it looked like the kid had been sketching out a copy of the tattoo.
{ Are they trying to avoid killing him, or just too squeamish for a skinning? }
With how they'd positioned him close enough to the fire to keep warm, it was probably the former.
Seemed like a stupid move. Obviously they were after the same treasure; the options were to kill him off now or be forced to do so once he came back for revenge.
It'd be a disappointment if they just turned out to be the kind of cowards that would rather leave him tied up to die from the elements than do the job themselves.
Either way, this would be the perfect opportunity to take them all out of the running and grab the tattoos for himself.
The soldier was fidgety, but stood still enough while talking for Ogata to get a clear shot beneath his cap. After that, the girl would likely freeze from the shock of it -he could either shoot her then or let her escape and reconsider the wisdom of getting herself involved in a situation like this; maybe a near miss to really get the point across. The prisoner was a sitting duck in any case, once the other two were out of the way.
Ogata paused to drive his bayonet into the tree, propping his rifle up for a steady shot before looking through the binoculars again. With the fire now cooperating, the girl had returned to her drawing while the soldier came to watch over her shoulder.
He ran a thumb over the smooth wood of the rifle's handle as he considered taking aim. It would be too easy to take them out now, sitting still like that with their heads so close together. A boring end to such an intriguing circumstance.
It wasn't every day you saw an Ainu child and a Japanese soldier working together, after all. There had to be an interesting story there if he could learn it. As naive as they seemed, they must have been resourceful to come as far as they had -they'd certainly acquired more skins than Ogata already.
He could benefit from letting them continue hunting for a while; gather more information, see if they were working with anyone else. If they were going to continue catching and releasing the tattooed prisoners, he could simply pick the victims off and collect the original tattoos as they went.
The man was kind of charming, after all. Following him around for a while might not be so bad…
The man in question perked up at something the girl said, head swiveling to observe the prisoner. Her mouth was too obscured from Ogata's angle for him to make out the question, but the trio tensed visibly over it.
He focused closely on the prisoner's lips as they all waited for the answer.
The first words were slow and measured, but angled away as he turned towards the people behind him. Still, Ogata could make out what could have been Noppera-Bou.
{ Well that's no good. }
He cocked the gun, checking the binoculars one last time to confirm his aim. This time he was sure the next words were didn't have a face.
{ Can't have you telling them everything. }
The shot was clean. Clear through the prisoner's forehead without hitting the two behind him. Not the plan he'd had in mind, but he could improvise.
Before he could finish that thought, the pair had sprung into action; by the time he took aim again, the area was entirely obscured by smoke.
{ Clever. }
Ogata retrieved his bayonet, anticipation thrumming along his nerves for the first time in ages. He liked clever. Maybe he'd be able to salvage this mess, if he played his cards right…
Or maybe he'd just get to find out how good of a fighter this soldier actually was.
** ** **
{ That could have gone better… } Ogata admitted hazily to himself through the sharp throbbing pain in his head.
The snow seemed to flow under his feet like sand, offering no traction as the world spun around him in disorienting flashes of white.
{ I should really work on my approach. }
At least he'd satisfied his curiosity a little, even if it only made him want to learn more.
The fight was repeating in his mind in disjointed snippets: The breathtaking violence in Sugimoto's expression; the enormous power behind each blow; the heat of another man's body pinning him to the ground… The thrill of it all.
{ Sugimoto The Immortal…… What an experience. }
A dull thud made the world go black, leaving nothing but the afterimage of stunning orange eyes as consciousness finally slipped from his grasp.