AN: Gonna change the title of this from NURi to WARRiOR later on. Dunno, I just think it fits better. Anyways! Hi guys, been a while, eh? 

-

The capital, Kouka, booms with life.

It was like walking into a world and finally seeing colours again. From the grand displays of lavish foods and commodities, to the many dyes of garments and jewellery among townsfolk and nobility, to the hidden communities crowding the alleys, coloured warmly by the earth.

There was no space to even walk here.

The streets were sandwiched with people, and cutting through the masses warranted a blind squeeze of stepping through in correct general directions.

That, coupled with the mask over his eyes, makes for a very suffocating experience.

"Stay close, Noo-ri!" Tae-woo warned him, taking him by the wrist and pulling him right all the way back to his side. "Geez, finally found you."

It is not Noo-ri's fault that the crowd dragged him apart from everyone else.

Absolutely not.

Dressed in the clothing of the Wind Tribe, Noo-ri felt uncomfortable. It's not his usual fit, and it's definitely the prettiest thing he's ever worn in this lifetime. Tae-woo took Noo-ri's wrists, showing him where the ribbons are coming loose around the sleeve.

"Can't you wear your clothes properly?" he reprimanded, taking the time to tighten the bonds securely.

(Well, tying sleeves so they won't get in the way is a modern Wind thing...)

Today, Noo-ri was dressed like one of Mun-dok's boys.

Not to say he doesn't always dress like a one-- it's just the fact that the entourage of the General has to dress better when they're here. Intricate patterns on the trim of their overcoat, light colours, a more stylised head ornament, that kind of thing.

Even today, the band of Noo-ri's eyepatch is decorated with woven red string and jade beads, and the patterns of his clothes were made to match Tae-woo's.

It's not extravagant or anything, but it's definitely not home wear. And definitely, it was very expensive. Noo-ri did not like looking important, but alas.

-

Hiryuu Castle was different now. Paint had been recoated, wood had been changed, and many parts of it had been refurbished, demolished, and renovated.

What was once the training grounds was now a new palace. What was once the concubine's quarters has been cleared to build the new training grounds.

It's in the midst of this gandering, Noo-ri's wrist was taken again, and Tae-woo, harried, tried to navigate the crowds.

"C'mon, we're going to miss Lord Hak's match!"

Noo-ri was dragged toward the side of palace grounds, where Tae-woo greeted the guard with a simple sign before kicking off a tree to a wall, using the side as a step to reach a high branch. From there, he lunged over, managing to clear the internal palace walls, standing at the top and looking down to Noo-ri.

"Shortcut," was his only explanation. "Need any help?"

Uhm.

The guard said it was okay, so maybe the palace isn't always this easy to infiltrate.

(These aren't the walls of the palace Noo-ri is familiar with. That's reasonable-- it's been so long, after all. Of course nothing is the same.)

He considered the height of the wall-- and took a run at it.

"Huh? Wait, you shouldn't--"

Tae-woo's jaw dropped when Noo-ri scaled it, running up three full steps and catching the edge before pulling himself over in one smooth motion

"Oh. I guess that works," he said. "I mean, I've seen it before, but you're pretty nimble, huh?"

Noo-ri nodded at that.

-

Lord Hak is first in line to be General, so his vest is white, trimmed blue.

He's fighting Lord Geun-tae, an impressive sight on its own. It's a teenager fighting an adult, after all, and he's really holding his own.

"See that? That's our young master, Lord Hak."

Noo-ri watched from his perch on the wall. It's not very close, but it's certainly a clear view. Lord Hak is nimble, much more than Tae-woo, and his strikes are much stronger. It makes sense that Tae-woo looked up to him so much.

(And that style of battle-- it was enchanting.)

Hak throws down his blade, swinging it behind him. Lord Geun-tae rears back in alarm, and Hak lets the glaive leave his hands, swinging forth as a rod of loose power.

It takes Lord Geun-tae by surprise, the man barely parrying the blade.

Hak doesn't hesitate there. He lunges forward, snatching the spear right out of the air-- and swinging back once more.

(His jumps were not crazy, nor were his swings holding immense power. He was just a soul that simply made use of his best assets, improved on them, and grew stronger.)

(He fought, human nature and animal instinct colliding to create a style of beastly battle, rooted in Shuten's basics but thoroughly unique only to himself.)

Noo-ri found himself reminiscing of a figure that once resembled this little knight.

There used to be a general just like him, back in the time of Hiryuu. An abnormally talented human hidden under the shadow of the beasts, a warrior that could only briefly stand in the dragon warriors' shadows as almost an equal.

Just like Sang, he'd hung around the dragon warriors on occasion, occasionally holding his own in a friendly spar. He was still alive when Sang lived, and yet now, he was completely missing from history.

He barely even remembered that man's name anymore, but people called him the Sword, in the same way Sang was sometimes considered the Shield.

(Perhaps, there are traces of him in some long-forgotten village as well-- but they will never be acknowledged, never be remembered. Not as long as the dragons exist.)

Well, let's not think about that.

He smiles, watching Tae-woo brag obnoxiously about his incredible big brother figure. It's endearing, all of this-- and he was content to just live in this moment right here.

(It's fine to not be in history's gloomy notes.)

Here, and back then as well— Noo-ri only wanted to serve tea, to make those in-between moments sweeter to live through.

-

Princess Yona was dear, little, and excitable.

"You're so cool! Your eyes are covered, but you never spill when you pour!" She watched a little distance away, Soo-won by her side and Lord Hak catching up with his brothers.

They're in the castle's courtyard, a small table set up in the clearing for tea.

Noo-ri simply smiled in response, and though it's hard to see under the mask, Yona grinned back. She crouched down to get a low angle, trying to look under the mask– but Noo-ri is more adept than that, easily moving each time to stand at just the right angle to avoid her sight.

Her hair was fiery, red, and gentle— just as the waves of the river at sunset— they burned, like an open wound.

(He tried not to look too far in Soo-won's direction, but he couldn't help but linger during his kneel when he greeted, unable to bear the churn in his soul when the awareness comes to him, breaking in like a shatter of glass— that this was him.)

Just as times have changed, he supposes, the will of his king has spread out as well, standing side by side as a parallelism of two hands that still didn't quite know what they represented.

Yona and Soo-won were on opposite ends in the spectrum of one will.

(Perhaps, together, they would one day encompass the glory that was King Hiryuu.)

"Lord Hak, drink some too," Tae-woo nudged at his brother, picking up a cup for himself.

"Huh? Do I have to?"

"Drink it," Yona sneered at him, "he poured it for all of us, it'd be rude if you didn't even try. Have some manners."

"Well good thing for me, I'm trying to be a fighter, not a princess, so I don't give a damn about manners."

Yona and Hak bumbled right into an argument, and Soo-won giggled at the sight.

"Now, now, you guys. Don't fight," he said, in the exact same way, in the exact same intonation, and in the exact same laughter as King Hiryuu.

Noo-ri's composure slipped and flew right off into the stars, sliding out of his fingers like the teapot he was holding.

He squeaks soundlessly, lunging to catch it because that teapot is worth more than his bounty, grabbing it by the base and barely straightening it just in time for his other leg to crumble and barely catch himself in a pseudo sitting position, not a drop of tea on the tablecloth.

Everyone has turned to him, his heart rate is way too quick, and he nearly put the Wind Tribe in some insane debt, but okay, he saved the tea.

Tae-woo burst out laughing. "Are you okay, Noo-ri?" he choked on his tea and put it down, still bumbling with laughter as Noo-ri's face flushed. He took the teapot from Noo-ri's hands as Han-dae offered to help him back to his feet.

"Was the teapot too heavy? Or are you just not used to the fancy stuff?" Han-dae wondered. "How strange. You're not usually that clumsy."

Noo-ri huffed, looking away. He didn't do that on purpose.

"See? Even such a pretty little servant fumbles sometimes," Hak assured, chuckling. "Maybe there's hope for our princess with two left feet after all."

"I do not have two left feet!" Yona yelped, "I'm okay at dancing! You're just awful, Hak!"

"Oh really," Hak said, disbelievingly.

"Now now," Soo-won chortled, putting himself between them. "That's enough, that's enough. I like Yona's dancing."

Yona flushed, sputtering, "oh you do– I mean, uh. Yeah! See, Soo-won does! Unlike you, baboon-face Hak!"

"Ah yes, Baboon-face Hak, legendary young fighter of the Wind Tribe and winner of this year's national fighting tournament," Hak muttered, sarcastically. "Will now drink this tea in the honour of Princess Yona, the lady of two left feet—"

"Enough about that!"

"Hey Hak, stop bullying Yona."

Noo-ri couldn't help but watch them so fondly.

Yona eventually settled down with Soo-won and Hak, taking careful sips of their tea. Soo-won does it first and falls silent. Yona, mid-sentence, notices when Hak looks over in surprise.

"What's wrong, Soo-won?" Hak asked first.

Soo-won cradled the cup preciously. "It's very good," he smiled, his voice soft in an unspeakably melancholic, yet so satisfied way.

Noo-ri's heart breaks into pieces.

"It's rare that Soo-won's actually saying that..." Yona picked up her own cup. "It smells so soothing, like the morning breeze. What tea is this?"

"Just drink your tea in silence," Hak groaned, earning an irritated sneer as he drank.

Noo-ri's heart clenched as Yona swooned at the taste, and they asked for another cup. Hak called it stinky, predictably, but he still respectfully finished his cup, claiming it was quenching. Han-Dae grinned, bragging about Noo-ri's original concoction like it was a masterful talent of Wind design.

Noo-ri couldn't help the hurt in his heart.

They were there, in reach of his hands— and yet, he could never truly reach out to grasp them. He wasn't even in the position to serve his king again— no, he didn't know who was his king anymore.

Hiryuu was dead. Sang is dead, too, and Noo-ri, he is free.

Somewhere in their hearts, Sang's legacy lived on. Noo-ri could tell, from the way their hearts silenced around it, from the way they soaked into it, treating it appreciatively.

The spirit of the HIryuu that he loved lived on in them, but that heart was thinned, and so was everything to do with Sang. Soo-won and Yona were not King Hiryuu— they held his spirit, his blood, but they will never be King Hiryuu.

Noo-ri is clinging onto Sang, and clinging onto a dead man. There was no sense in failing to let go. It would only lead to endless heartache. It's time to move on.

"Here, yours."

Noo-ri looked to the side to see Tae-woo with a fond smile, pushing a cup into his hand.

...huh?

"It's a tea party," Tae-woo said. "General rule is that everyone's gotta drink tea, right?"

Noo-ri received the cup, surprised. This might be the first time he's been served tea, instead of the other way around. Tae-woo raised his teacup, and Noo-ri instinctively knocked it together.

It warmed him up inside. He's not sure if he means the tea or the atmosphere.

All he knew was that he would be fine, even aimless as he was.