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gorou can’t swim.
it isn't because he's afraid of getting wet. he’d often find a shallow bath or a night at an onsen quite relaxing and enriching.
gorou hasn’t been able to hold his breath since he was young. he simply couldn’t understand how people could do it. whenever he found his head underwater he would just end up uncontrollably snorting up all the water and start to drown.
after all, to hold your breath means you must fully let go of yourself, and resign yourself completely to suffocation, trusting that you will still be there when you resurface. gorou chouldn’t figure out how you were meant to take such terrifying chances, with something as precious as your life.
“well, tha—thank you very much for your continued business, lady guuji. you really didn’t need to personally attend to our business like this again, i’m thankful. but i’m afraid i really must be heading back now, so—”
the sultry voice of the guuji curtly snaps the rest of gorou’s sentence in half.
“not so fast, pup.”
gorou freezes up on the spot. ah. that’s what this feeling is, gorou has decided. dealing with this woman feels like i’m drowning.
yae miko raises her eyebrow, a mischevous glint glossing over her amethyst eyes. “i believe there’s something you owe me.”
gorou lets out a nervous laugh. “i assumed surely you must’ve been joking, right—”
the guuji shoots him a glare, and gorou clams up.
“mm... i see why you could’ve thought that.” she says, her voice reasonable although her eyes seem to gleam with mischief. she feigns a frown in half a pout, predatory glare still affixed on gorou. “but unfortunately, i’m afraid not.”
“oh. haha.” gorou sweats, stammering. “i... i see.”
the guuji smiles. “perfect. i will see you tomorrow at 12 p.m. sharp, then, at yae publishing house. don’t be late, general.”
gorou doesn’t have a chance to protest before she turns on her heels and walks away.
~
“a gorgeous tail like yours deserves lots of tender loving care. hehe... don’t you agree? ...no? hmm... then why do i see your ears saying otherwise?”
gorou had always known that the guuji was a heartless manipulator, a tease, a flirt. hell, the entirety of inazuma, no, the entire continent could’ve told you that.
what he doesn’t know is what yae miko wants from him.
truth be told, gorou doesn’t see himself as a man with lots to offer. even if—god forbid—the guuji meant to use him for political access to watatsumi, he thinks, unfortunately, her excellency sangonomiya would clearly have been the more vulnerable and valuable target, judging from the amount of giggles that the priestess let slip upon recieving yae miko’s letters.
so... why torment gorou so vigorously, of all people?
“...because you are blessed with a wonderful fluffy tail, that’s why. i think it’s very cute.”
gorou feels a fiery blush creep up his throat.
he’s got to get to the bottom of this.
~
“ueno,” gorou asks, not looking up from his book. “what would you do when someone’s uh... trying to take advantage of you, but you have no idea what she wants?”
ueno spits out his drink. “you have a lady you’re interested in, general?”
“eep!” gorou freezes up, shrinking to the wall in surprise at avoid being showered with beer, clutching his tail and arms towards his chest, all the hair on his body on its end. gross.
“no.” he says flatly, regaining his composure.
ueno swallows apologetically. “you have uh... erm... a suitor... then?”
“i promise you it’s nothing, nothing remotely like that.” gorou swears his collar’s tucked tighter on his throat than it’d been just a second ago. whatever that demon fox’s intentions were, he was very obviously sure it was nothing of the sort. “she’s probably just trying to get on my nerves. i think she’s gay, too. just answer the question, though.”
“uh... right.” ueno lets out a hearty laugh, dissipating the cobwebs of awkwardness that had come to hang over the air. “well, i’d just confront it at face value, full frontal attack, you know? even if i wasn’t sure, i’d operate on the assumption they were into me. it’s a gamble, but if it’s true, cool, she finds you hot. if it’s not, even if they’re trying to tease you, it wouldn’t work if i was confident enough to take them at face value and go hell yeah i am! so. you win either way, i would think.”
“wow.” gorou scratches his own chin in thought. yep, this is definitely going south. nothing this guy is telling him is useful. “that’s, uh, pretty bold of you.”
ueno shrugs, now chewing on a tab of squid. “i reckon i don’t know a single soldier in this army who would back down from a fight, even one of that nature, sir. maybe dense and dim-witted, sure, but once the lady’s made herself clear, you gotta be a man about it! no big deal.”
gorou gulps, and at the word “fight” the terrifying and beautiful visage of yae miko’s nasty smirk, and her powerful, oppressive, stormy eyes blooms over his vision. even the thought of seeing her is overwhelming, and gorou just wants to run away and stuff his face into a pillow.
...gorou is not being very soldierlike.
“i see.” gorou reclaims himself with a fake cough. “don’t back down from a fight?”
ueno nods. “sometimes you gotta break some eggs to make an omelette, general.”
“...huh?” gorou blinks, not sure whether ueno is using that expression right.
“eggs being women, in this case.” ueno explains, not very helpfully. “and omelettes being—”
“...ueno, that’s disgusting.”
~
later on, gorou asks her excellency the same question.
kokomi immediately blushes up and scrambles to cover her face with the book she’d been reading, two ocean-hued eyes full of embarrassment peeking over the covers.
“mm—that does sound terrifying.” the priestess sighs. “to tell you the truth, i’ve never been very skilled at discerning people’s intents when it comes to things like that.” she laughs sheepishly. “i always used to just run away when girls would try to chat me up.”
“because you didn’t like them?” gorou asks, relieved. he couldn’t imagine kokomi running away from people so easily, but if even her excellency had the same kind of reactions, maybe he wasn’t being so inadequate after all. “and were they rude to you, your excellency?”
“quite the contrary, hehe.” kokomi shakes her head, giggling. “i ran because because i was nervous, and i thought they were pretty. it’s scary, you know? if you know you like them, but their motivations are unclear. ”
sounds like this isn’t going to help at all yet again. why does everyone keep assuming that gorou actually likes yae miko? he clears his throat. “oh...? and how did you manage to figure it out?”
what kokomi’s saying does make sense, but gorou’s not quite sure if it applies to his situation. for one, gorou wasn’t a pretty girl like kokomi... he doesn’t get the same type of attention as her. and gorou doesn’t think yae is pretty, does he? even if she does make him feel extremely claustrophobic. and...
to be honest, he still not sure that his soldiers would approve of him being so weak.
an unknowable smile tugs at kokomi’s soft, pretty lips, and her eyes like the sunset rippled in the ocean are deep and provoking. “it gets easier once you realize they’re taking as much of a risk as you are, not being sure how you’ll react.”
~
the next afternoon yae miko leads a flustered and terrified gorou around on a tour of the in-house photography studio of yae publishing house, talking excited about their latest installment in the light novel franchise, i went back in time 500 years and celestia turned me into a pretty pretty princess. the titular character, of course, would be played by gorou.
“...i had a question, lady guuji.”
“hm?”
“why do you need me, specifically, for this photoshoot?"
“mm...” yae miko thinks about his question. “perhaps it’s because i think you look very pretty, gorou, although a more practical answer might be that you fit the depictions of the heroine by the author and the illustrator to a tee.”
“i see.” gorou scratches at his chin. “and you wouldn’t have happened to commission said illustrator yourself, would you?”
yae miko brushes off his question with a smirk.
“it will be just us for today in the studio, so make yourself comfortable.” she pats the makeup chair, dragging over a cart of makeup supplies and different kinds of products.
wow. thanks. being alone with you makes it all the more comfortable.
gorou sighs. even if she was frustrating, and in many ways infuriating, gorou wonders if he’s actually quite lucky that teasing and private embarrassment is where it ends. yae had kept her word, and kept her lips sealed about his identity during the ms. hina debacle, and gorou was even been paid a hefty sum in royalties whilst he hadn’t even realized it was happening. narukami and watatsumi were, despite the ceasefire, still on the precipice of war, after all. the fact that gorou would be let go, scot free, once yae miko's had her fun, and that all he had to do to ensure that watatsumi maintained better graces with narukami was put on a silly costume and nobody would need to know?
gorou clenches his fist.
it’s annoying. sadistic of her, even. he’d sworn to himself over and over that he wouldn’t lose out to her constant teasing ever again...
...but it still would be more than worth it.
he is a soldier, after all.
despite the uncertainty tugging at his feet, he steps into the chair, his eyes fluttering closed as yae drapes a robe over his clothes, as to not get them dirty. (he sits on his tail to make sure yae miko can’t make fun of him for it.)
~
“you know, your facial structure is quite beautiful.” hums the guuji. “perhaps you should do this more often.”
“thanks, but no thanks,” gorou mutters, against his better senses melting into the chair as his face is pelted with soft brushstrokes and lathered with cool creams. “i’d prefer to not waste my time and money on products when i have wages to pay.”
“my, my.” yae, her voice once again perking up with that annoying false inquisitiveness. “yet again denying the fact that you like looking good when my compliment makes your ears flutter around like butterflies, are we? why do you do that, i wonder.”
“i’m a soldier.” gorou grumbles. “i have no time for it. and maybe, lady guuji, you are just not as well attuned to the movements of my ears as you had hoped? they simply shiver when i’m cold.”
yae crinkles her nose. “and i’ll just have to make sure to make it warmer for you next time, then. a shame i won’t get to see this—” she flicks lightly at one of gorou’s ears, which twitches in irritation, “—as much, anymore. perhaps i’ll make it colder in here instead on purpose?”
gorou bites back a growl in the back of his throat, indignant. now it was getting to be too much. he swats yae’s hand away from his ear, not aggressively, but not gently, either.
“my, you’ve made me drop my eyebrow pen. just when i was about to finish. you know, you really should take some time to pluck—”
“why the hell am i here, lady guuji?”
the space in his chest where the frustration had pent up and exhumed with the sudden burst of his question cools off, chilling over his heart with liquid ice. that was fucking enough. gorou hadn’t intended to bark at her, and he was sure the guuji wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.
“ferocious.” she comments simply. she crosses her arms, slightly indignant. “you’re here because i invited you. now be a good boy and—”
gorou feels something break.
suddenly he doesn’t care if he barks away his dignity or not.
“you call me, of all people, here, there, and everywhere, only to tease me, embarrass me, humiliate me—and why? why me? aren’t you surrounded by beautiful women every hour of every day? don’t you wake up to them attending to you every morning, dressing you, feeding you, scattering flower petals above your head wherever your evil little footsteps will take you? why do i have the one to be on the receiving end of this sick feminized degradation fantasy of yours? if you wanted watatsumi, why not—”
he chokes. he hacks and coughs his way through his anger, without caring anymore that his tail slipped out from under his chair.
“—what is it with me that you can’t get from anyone else? why do you want it from me?”
yae miko only affords him a blank stare. “mm? you don’t think i treat everyone like this?”
gorou is taken aback. had he assumed too much? the guuji simply snorts into laughter. “i jest, general gorou. i assure you, you are very special to me indeed.”
gorou blinks. somehow, the way yae says it, special doesn’t feel like it means good.
“what do you mean?”
“it’s true, as you say, if i simply wanted a beautiful model... i could very easily acquire one. if i wanted to maintain my ties with watatsumi, well...” she giggles. “you could say that kokomi and i are already very well acquainted.”
the sparkle in her eyes as she utters the priestess’ first name with a giggle is not lost on gorou, whose face goes impossibly red at the suggestion. yae takes this as an opportunity to lean in closer, lowering her voice into a darkened purr.
“so it’s a fair question, really. but one that i believe is far more suited for you to answer, don’t you think?”
yae flicks at the side of gorou’s jaw, and gently carresses his chin with the side of her finger.
“so tell me, general gorou.”
panic flooding into his system at the unforeseen physical contact, gorou tries to untangle himself from the bib, but the guuji is incredibly fast and strong despite her appearance, pinning him back down on the chair with minimal effort with just her palm.
“who are you?” she continues, finger tracing gorou’s cheek. “who are you, general gorou of watatsumi, who walked so willingly into my studio, the tail you’ve been trying so hard to hide from me wagging back and forth, back and forth with glee, fully knowing what i would ask you to do, and your continued insistence that you would like to do nothing of the sort?”
gorou can’t breathe. he wants to struggle. he wants to bite. he wants to grab miko’s forearm with both of his hands and bite and scratch until he draws blood and he can run. he gasps for air, choking back his breath as his chest is compressed with such crushing strength that his head feels light.
the breath he takes when the guuji releases him is so desperate and so heavy that he starts spluttering, coughing. his chest heaving with relief, he feels half braindead, barely registering the light in the room, the scent of sakura blossoms fluttering on the guuji’s sleeves suddenly so overpowering...
“...now tell me who you think are, my gorou.” coos yae miko, flexing the wrist of the hand she’d almost suffocated him with until it cracks. “don’t be shy.”
“i’m.” gorou gasps, trying so desperately to cling to his consciousness. the guuji left him so dumb he could barely think, much less speak.
“i’m just... some guy.”
~
when the boys visit the onsen gorou is the first one there and the last to leave. the steam and the rippling water does nicely to dissipate some of the awkwardness of everything just hanging out in full view, but seeing his subordinates entering and exiting left nothing left to the imagination. gorou shudders thinking about it, his brain rattling on and on with excuse after excuse about how it would be inappropriate and shameful to be seen so exposed as a superior officer.
still... he did like the hot springs, and the things it did to his skin, and the fur on his tails. maybe it was selfish, but he just wished that he had the time to come here alone.
gorou slumps, dipping part of his face into the water when he sees yabe wading over to him, slightly embarrassed by what little of his own body could be seen through the ripples and the steam.
everyone else in his troop is so... toned. and muscly. and masculine.
compared to him, gorou is just some skinny guy with soft skin and a well-groomed tail. feelings of inadequacy, as the leader of these people and as... a man... bubble up ever so softly in his cheeks as strands of his hair clings to it from the sweat.
“the boys and i were talking about going for a swim by the shore.” yabe points a finger to a group of guys, struggling to climb out of the onsen one after another. “care to join us, general? ”
“no thanks,” gorou bubbles, quietly. “i don’t really like the beach...”
“really? strange. i’ve always found it quite freeing.”
“you guys have fun!” gorou urges, with a nod. “just be careful out there.”
~
“...are you now?” yae miko replies, a single eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“yes, that’s what i am.”
gorou hates the contempt with which he said it. he couldn’t mask it quickly enough, the fact that he was bitter. the fact that even though he was a general, a soldier, a man, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t know at all what he even has, or what he even is, much less what he ought to be. and...
the fact that when he looks at himself in the mirror he hides his tail behind his back, because he wants to have groomed it, wants it soft and fluffy and shiny in a way that doesn’t befit someone of his position. because when he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t look at his own ears or nose or jaw or face, because he wishes he was softer.
the fact that if he let himself want the things he wants, he would be... different.
and not in the ways he needs to be.
“i’m just... some guy,” he repeats, through gritted teeth.
“some guy who doesn’t deserve nice things,” the guuji finishes his thought for him, her tone flat and dry. “is that how you see yourself?”
gorou throws his arms up in frustration. “is there any more to it? i genuinely don’t understand what you’re trying to do with me here, i hope you realize that.”
the guuji is silent, even to his shouts, and when gorou finally gathers up the courage to look back at her, she looks... distant.
pained, even.
“i see.” she murmurs.
~
gorou has nothing much left in him to resist the rest of yae’s handiwork after that admission was—quite literally—forced out of him. although, he thinks, something about what he said seems to have soaked up the light in the guuji’s eyes, because as the session continues she seems to run out of teasing remarks, opting to speak more about the business end of the task at hand. strangely, that makes their conversation actually seem comfortable, almost as if they could be... friends, even.
“so, the main character, himahime,” yae explains, as she dresses gorou in a gorgeous, silky blue and white ballgown from monstadt adorned with golden sunflower designs, “she gets eaten up by a slime—not one of the typical elemental slimes, mind you, a time slime, actually—”
“pff.” gorou can’t help but let out a hoarse laugh. “a time slime? now i’ve heard everything.”
yae rolls her eyes. “the worldbuilding is actually quite rich. the author really knew what she was doing for this one, i must say. perhaps i can lend you a copy.”
“lend? with the work i’ve been doing for you, guuji yae, i better receive a signed first-edition in the mail first thing tomorrow.”
the head editor gives him a light smile. “i’ll try my best, ms. hina.”
she makes one quick adjustment to gorou’s collar. “there. all done. wig hanging on okay?”
“a little scratchy, actually. feels fine, though. you really should have a mirror here so i can see what you’re doing.”
“actually, we’re using the mirror that’s supposed to be here as a prop, so i moved it. you may check yourself out while we’re taking the pictures.”
“that’s not fair at all!”
“the mirror is what himahime uses to travel through time in the story.” says yae, her arms folded over, adamant. “what would be the point of the photoshoot without it?”
“we could’ve moved it after...” gorou grumbles.
the guuji slaps the small of his back, sending a shiver down gorou’s spine from how cool and smooth the expensive silk feels on his skin. “now now, be a good little princess and get to the sound stage if you want to see yourself so badly.”
~
yae miko rolls open her copy of i went back in time 500 years and celestia turned me into a pretty pretty princess, and skips right to the climax. gorou tries his best to keep up with her demands so the session ends faster. he seems to mind less and less, though. the dress—although a bit emasculating, obviously—is a pleasure to move around in. the fabric swishes as he shifts around, and it’s light and breathable.
“how tragic, that i should have these powers, and everything to gain—now face the camera leaning against the side of the mirror please, no, slump harder down? good—yet in the end, all i’ve experienced is loss? ... i’m crying, she notices—now look in the mirror?—strange, i’ve never seen myself cry, have i? the princess whispers to herself. ick. gross! why would anyone ever want to do something like this?”
and it’s the first time that gorou gets to see himself.
soft, sunkissed golden skin protrudes from the sleeves of the flowing gown like honey spilling from a jar. his slightly crooked wig colored brunette and silver like his natural hair, but almost aglow in the light with how silky smooth it appears to be. a few excess strands, which gorou kept trying to tuck away with very little success, stick to his rosy cheeks and ruby-red lips from all the sweat.
gorou stares into the mirror, stroking the lace of shimmering silver that wraps around his neck. she looks up, at the earrings clipped onto his triangular ears weigh them down just enough to make them appear slightly droopy. carefully, he wraps his own tail around his waist, brushed out, freshly shampooed and conditioned, soft, glowing.
oh.
she’s gorgeous.
the world blurs up as his eyes start to sting and grow hot.
~
it’s not like he hadn’t thought of it before.
he’d always brushed it off, because yeah right. gorou has an army to manage. he had no reason to be insecure about his own masculinity, because what could be more macho than winning a war, right?
besides. soldiers don’t have time for maintanence, they don’t have time for pretty clothes and manicures. people like gorou, who fight deadly wars with grime in their fingernails and blood in their teeth, just aren’t meant to be beautiful, you know?
except for her excellency. she was an exception. and kujou sara, who seemed to descend upon the the battlefield with effortless grace.
and the raiden shogun.
but gorou couldn’t be one of them. because what would his boys think?
and then came yae miko, beautiful, glowing, graceful, confident.
everything gorou dreamed of wanting to be.
who somehow just knew to try and give him things that he’s always, always been terrified to want, only to find that he loves them.
it felt like drowning—she felt like drowning, because little by little, with one indulgence after another, she had torn down the well-crafted escape routes and excuses through which gorou could escape this suffocating possibility.
“i think you’d make a very gorgeous woman.”
because gorou found himself hoping more and more she’d meant it in earnest.
~
dammit, dammit, dammit...
on a certain level, burrowed too deep at the core under layers and layers of his heart, gorou understands why tears are welling up at the corners of his eyes, why they well up and pool and spill into a thin streak of abrasive red along his cheek like a scar. he wonders if the sore redness underneath the trickles on his face had always been there, his true colours lying unseen beneath layers of ashes and dust, now cleansed away by the warmth and wetness of his tears.
on some level, deep down, deeper than cognition, he understands why he cries.
but why is she crying?
almost as if to answer the question, yae miko continues to recite from the manuscript in a low hum.
“people cry when we recognize that something is lost and cannot be regained... whispers her dying companion. because, princess, time is the thing that is most precious to us. the ultimate object of loss.”
the girl in the mirror meets gorou’s eyes with her own shimmering blues. and she almost seems like she wants to tell him something.
“we cry at the irreversibility of time, because it is, and will always be... too late. a demand for satisfaction that can never be satisfied, sustained by tears that express the fantasy that maybe...”
oh.
“...just maybe... it can.”
gorou is sobbing now, chaste tears flooding into a stream.
“...general?”
“...”
“oh, general...” coos yae miko softly, folding up the manuscript and leaving it behind on her table. she doesn’t address the general with teasing, yet she doesn’t do so with concern.
“oh, gorou.”
she is sweetly, airily, simply, without pretense. her voice in that tone is sweeter and lighter and more heartbreaking than anything gorou has ever heard before. he wonders why she doesn’t speak like that more.
“this is cruel.” says gorou, the voice that spills out gone tender through his sobs. “why would you do this to me...? why me?”
gorou hears yae miko’s footsteps drawing closer. her sigh is melodic. “i suppose on some level you simply reminded me of someone i knew, a long time ago. but... to put it more simply than that...”
the guuji crouches down to meet gorou’s eyes through the mirror. she allows gorou a few moments to let him push through his tears.
her gaze is tender, admiring. not quite wanting, simply admiring.
“she’s beautiful. you deserve to see that, don’t you think?”
gorou starts hiccuping, the flow not stemming.
“i wonder what she would say to you if she could, general.” she whispers, pausing ever so often to allow gorou’s hiccups to pass through uninterrupted. “do you love her...? i bet you do... i bet you must.”
she runs a hand through his hair, careful not to graze his sensitive ears.
“but i wonder, if she could... i wonder if she would reach out through the mirror and hold you. maybe she would brush the tears off your cheeks. maybe she would thank you for loving her. maybe...”
the guuji sighs, lovingly, fawningly, staring into the gorou in the mirror. “maybe she would ask you if you would let her love you. ”
yae smiles, and it’s a weightless smile that, finally, carries no ulterior motive. she leans into gorou’s ear, and speaks quietly but assuredly, not a whisper but not a shout.
“after all, i, at least, think you’re well worth loving, no?”
without having to look, gorou knows the girl in the mirror is bawling, chest heaving with gulps of air; the sharp, bitter sting of wet tears snorted up to her sinus and burns like she’s drowning.
“i’ve always found it quite freeing.” yabe had said. now gorou feels like maybe he could understand why.
it’s freeing to let go of yourself.
trusting that you will still be there to catch you when you reemerge.
“there, there...” yae brushes away the tears from the girl’s cheeks with her thumb, and the touch on gorou’s skin is foreign, firm, but tender. with her other hand, she supports the girl’s chest, pressing softly through the fabric to calm her breathing. “shh...”
gorou gulps down his own spit, and, breathing out a shaky breath that feels so cold and strange against his own throat, he looks into his own eyes through the mirror.
he feels himself mouth the words, and the girl in the mirror whispers them back to him.
“let me love you.”