Crickets chirp among the crisp, damp grass outside of the citadel. Moonlight streams in, but only very little– it's the only thing lighting the room, diffused by the shoji screen filtering it through.
There’s a rustle of a futon next to him, and Kiyomitsu startles from the state between wakefulness and sleep he had been drifting in. Kiyomitsu blearily watches Yasusada push back the cover on his futon and pad softly across the tatami floor. He stays silent as Yasusada quietly opens the shoji and steps out onto the engawa, closing the screen behind him.
Kiyomitsu briefly considers going back to sleep before slipping out of his covers and following after Yasusada. He leaves the shoji open behind him—there's no one else in there, anyway– and silently makes his way through the hall, muscle memory taking him to where he’s certain Yasusada is.
“Some of us like to get our beauty sleep, you know.” Kiyomitsu says, not unkindly. He positions himself on the roof next to Yasusada, and looks up at the moon, where his partner is watching intently.
“Did I wake you?” Yasusada asks, not moving his gaze.
“I wasn’t asleep.” Kiyomitsu replies in kind.
They sit in comfortable silence for some time, watching the moon in the summer sky.
“Kiyomitsu.” Yasusada says eventually, pulling Kiyomitsu’s attention back on him. Kiyomitsu watches him patiently, seeing as Yasusada’s gaze falls, and the storm in his eyes is evident. Kiyomitsu nudges him with his shoulder.
“You don't have to explain yourself to me, you know.” He says, looking back up at the moon. Kiyomitsu gets it—he knows something’s bothering his partner. And there's more to it than that, things unsaid between them yet understood; that's how it is.
Yasusada looks over at him and their eyes meet, tears just starting to drip from Yasusada’s bottom lashes. Kiyomitsu leans into him, and Yasusada’s head instinctively fits into the gap between his jaw and shoulder. Their hands find each other, and hold one another—firmly, reassuringly.
It’ll be okay.