The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

Haruki quickly agreed to whatever plans Lanling had in store, but the problem in his tent remained unresolved. His head was starting to ache as he debated what to do about the persistent citrus scent and whether he should just invade Verdan's tent to crash for the night.

His thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on Lanling's bed.

In the dim light, he saw his general half-lying on one side of the bed, resting his cheek in one hand while patting the empty space next to him with the other. With a voice full of amusement, Lanling suggested, "I have a perfectly good empty space here—what do you think?"

What do I think...? What do I think?!

Haruki's mind spiralled out of control as a flood of bed-related scenarios crashed through his thoughts, threatening to overwhelm him. Every nerve in his body seemed ready to betray his resolve.

He stared at Lanling in shock, his mouth forming a small 'o.' His eyes darted everywhere except toward Lanling's body. "That... wouldn't it make more sense for me to sleep in Verdan's tent?" he stammered.

The only rational thought in his mind—the one clinging to their earlier plans—reminded him that this situation fit into them perfectly, whether he wanted it to or not.

"Really? What a shame... a missed opportunity," Lanling said, his tone heavy with mock disappointment.

He slumped onto the bed dramatically, arms spread wide, as if the weight of the world had just fallen on him. Turning sideways, he fixed his calm gaze on Haruki. For a fleeting moment, though, his expression shifted—like a wronged puppy seeking solace—before reverting to its usual composed demeanor.

Haruki felt his mind snap under the pressure. With his last shred of control, he leaned over the bed, burying his face in his crossed arms to hide the flush that spread uncontrollably across his cheeks.

"Do you... want me to sleep with you?" he asked, his voice muffled and trembling.

The instant the words left his mouth, his ears filled with the deafening rhythm of his pounding heart. A sudden thought clawed at the edges of his consciousness, warning him that his teasing had gone too far. What if Lanling reacted with disgust? What if this moment shattered everything between them?

Based on his understanding, their friendship teetered on a fragile edge—one that could easily tip toward becoming strangers or something more. Yet Haruki had always felt the risk was too great to test those boundaries.

A delicate friendship was far more precious than the chance of losing it altogether.

Time stretched endlessly after Haruki's question, the silence growing heavier with each passing second. When no answer came, a bitter smile tugged at his lips. He was quietly grateful for the cover of darkness, hiding the vulnerable expression that he couldn't bring himself to show.

"I'm just joking. I'll crash at my friend's tent tonight—that way, our act tomorrow will be more convincing," Haruki said, his voice deliberately brightening each time he felt it waver with despair.

A brief silence followed before Lanling shifted, turning away and bundling himself tightly in his blanket. "Mn. Be careful tomorrow," he replied in his usual calm tone.

Hearing the familiar steadiness in Lanling's voice, Haruki let out a quiet sigh of relief. Without lingering, he slipped out of the tent the same way he had come, moving quickly to avoid any second thoughts.

In his haste, Haruki didn't notice Lanling pulling the blanket over his head, a futile attempt to conceal the longing etched on his face.

Morning came and the gong echoed through the encampment, jolting everyone awake as usual, accompanied by the groans of displeased soldiers reluctant to leave their beds.

It didn't take long, however, for the camp's routine to be overtaken by intrigue, sparking the soldiers' ever-curious, gossipy hearts.

Before the sun had even reached its highest point, word spread like wildfire: the general and his friend, Haruki, had a falling out during breakfast. The story traveled so quickly and widely that by midday, even the ants seemed to be in the know.

At the training grounds, Haruki found himself under a barrage of curious gazes, each filled with questions about what could have possibly caused an argument so severe that the general now refused to so much as glance in his direction. The situation was downright unbelievable—everyone in the army had witnessed the near-constant closeness between the two, often comparing them to conjoined twins.

It was common knowledge that if the general's presence wasn't explicitly required elsewhere, he would unerringly choose to be by Haruki's side.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Old Jin took matters into his own hands. With an expression like a worried parent, he rallied his squad members, issuing an impromptu "order" for Haruki's capture—one that might have slightly overstepped his authority.

Dragged into one of their tents, Haruki found himself seated across from Old Jin, who had assumed a comically interrogative pose. A few squad members blocked the entrance, while outside, a secondary group of "volunteers" worked diligently to steer away anyone they deemed untrustworthy, creating a hilariously overprotective barrier around the tent.

"Our brothers are working hard outside so you can speak freely," Old Jin declared, nodding with the pride of a father watching over his wayward child. He gestured for Haruki to speak. "Well? What's going on between you and the General?"

Haruki wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he couldn't risk derailing Lanling's plans. Adopting an expression brimming with anger, he raised his voice. "There's nothing going on. I just think the general is incompetent!"

"Impossible. You must be possessed," Old Jin exclaimed, his shock mirrored by the two other squad members flanking him.

Haruki's lips twitched in frustration. "I am not possessed! The Black Pythons should've been eliminated years ago, but it still took the general two whole years to make it happen!"

"Exactly! It only took our general two years to kick them out when the original prediction was ten! What's gotten into you? What kind of mushroom did you eat for breakfast?" Old Jin exclaimed, utterly convinced that Haruki had consumed something questionable. Without hesitation, he began a rough examination—prying Haruki's eyes wide open, inspecting his mouth, and even scrutinizing his ears for any telltale signs of illness or madness.

Old Jin's strength was far too overwhelming for Haruki to resist. He gave up struggling halfway through, slumping in defeat as the old man continued his impromptu check-up with relentless determination.