"Please tell me he’s not looking this way,” Amaya muttered, keeping her head down as she pretended to scrub the countertop. She’d barely recovered after her last unsettling encounter with her tormenter and he was back already, seated in the tavern like he owned the place. ​

"He’s not,” Setsuko assured her, casually glancing over her shoulder. “Some of the boys just invited him to place a game of cards with them.” ​

"Good.” Amaya threw the rag on the countertop and finally looked up. “What am I going to do?” ​

Setsuko grimaced. “You don’t have to work for him, Amaya. You can refuse, you know.” ​

“But how could I after he commanded the town elders to let me keep this tavern?” Amaya asked. “I owe him a debt…and he won’t stop reminding me about it.”

​Setsuko squeezed her friend’s hand, but said nothing. Amaya knew she couldn’t possibly understand. Setsuko, having nev lacked anything all her life, could afford to believe in the generosity of mankind. Amaya couldn’t. She had to struggle just to survive, she could rarely afford to give anything to others and when she did, it was only done with the expectation that she was now owed a debt. 

“If I refuse, he could very well make me lose the tavern…” She broke off as the bell rang and a young man staggered through the door. ​

Amaya instantly recognized him as a foreigner; no one in their town dressed in such an eccentric fashion. He was clad in leather armor, with a dark cloak that covered his face. There was something odd about the way he was pressing his arm to his side as he staggered up to the counter and slid into the seat beside Setsuko. ​

His hood slipped off his head as he looked up and smiled at the girls. “Hello, my darlings,” he grinned with a charming smile. Slightly tousled dark brown hair framed his boyish face. He didn’t look too much older than them, but there was something aged about his eyes as they glanced into Amaya’s. “Fill this up with the strongest drink you’ve got, if you please.” He slapped a silver flask on the table.

​Amaya hesitated. “It’ll cost you,” she warned and he nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out several coins. ​

"Is this enough?” ​

Amaya's eyes widened- he'd just given her more than she normally maden one night. She stared at him suspiciously- no one just threw around money like that. Still, the young man didn’t seem to have any intention of taking the coins back, so she quickly swept them into her pocket and snatched up the flask. She headed into the storeroom and opened a barrel of moonshine. She’d distilled it herself, using the methods her father had taught her, though there was something off about the flavor. Her customers didn’t seem to notice, but she could hardly taste it without cringing. ​Filling up the flask and capping it, she headed back to the main room and handed it to him.

"Here you go, sir,” she replied.

​“Thank you, darling,” he replied, sliding off the stool. He nodded to both girls, but before he could turn to leave, Amaya spoke up again. ​

"Can I offer you anything else for your arm, sir?” ​

The young man turned back towards her, a smile ghosting his lips. “Clever girl. What gave it away?” ​

"You’re holding it strangely,” she replied. “I keep bandages on hand at all times. You’re welcome to help yourself.” ​

The stranger chuckled. “Thank you, miss, but I-” ​

"Oi! Amaya!” Yasujiro called and Amaya’s brow furrowed in irritation. He was clearly drunk, if the slurring of his speech was any indication. “Another round of ale for these fine boys. My treat!” The young men he was sitting with all cheered and raised their glasses.

​Setsuko made a noise of disgust, but Amaya merely rolled her eyes as she grabbed the pitcher of ale and headed towards the table. As she passed by Yasujiro, he smirked at one of the lads sitting beside him. “Not that pretty, is she?” he said loudly. “But she’s got spunk.” And with that, he playfully slapped her . ​

Amaya whirled around in fury, a stream of curses she’d picked up from her patrons over the years rising to her lips. She wanted to smash her pitcher of ale into that smirking face, rake her fingernails across those cruel eyes, scream at him that he had absolutely no right to touch her like that because she’d never work for him even if her family was on the brink of starvation. ​

Before she could do any of that, though, the stranger spoke up calmly, but dangerously. “Why don’t you leave the lady alone?” ​

“Eh?” Yasujiro frowned as he squinted at the newcomer. “Who do you think you are, boy?” ​

The stranger glared at the man as he turned around slowly. “She doesn’t seem to like you and that’s no way to treat a young lady.” ​

“Sir-” Amaya began, but he gestured for her to get out of the way. ​She bit her lip hoping it wouldn’t come down to a fight. Fights were costly: Broken glasses needed to be replaced, scratched and stabbed tables needed to be painted over, and occasionally, a shattered window would need repairs. There wasn’t much she could do if one broke out, but still, she reached for her broomstick and held it tightly in her hands. Maybe she’d be able to do some damage control before the tavern was torn to pieces. ​

"Do you think he’ll be alright?” Setsuko whispered. ​

“Who?” asked Amaya. ​

"The strange guy,” Setsuko replied. Amaya shrugged, now chewing on her lip nervously. She was slightly worried for this young man who had foolishly stepped in to help her. She was grateful that he’d stopped her before she’d done something she would regret, but she had the feeling he didn’t know what he was getting into. ​

Yasujiro climbed to his feet as well, though he was swaying slightly. “Hey,” he coughed. “I’ve seen your face before.” ​

"I doubt that,” the stranger replied. “I just arrived in this town tonight.” ​

"No, from somewhere else,” the older man muttered. “Ah! I know. A wanted poster.” He smirked at the stranger’s surprised expression. “You’re name’s Donghae, isn’t it? Wanted in many towns for various crimes. A murderer and a thief, to boot.”

​The girls exchanged stunned glances. Thief? Murderer? Could it be true? ​

“He looks too nice,” Setsuko murmured. ​

"Shh.” ​

The stranger nodded. “I see my reputation precedes me. However, that is none of your concern. I’m only asking you to apologize to Miss-” He glanced at Amaya, suddenly realizing she hadn’t given her name.

​“Amaya,” she said quickly. ​“Miss Amaya, for behaving inappropriately towards her,” he finished, crossing his arms. Amaya didn’t miss the way he winced when he touched his injured forearm. ​

"Aw, shut up,” growled Yasujiro. He picked up his stick and removed the cap at the end- it was a rapier, Amaya realized in surprise. He waved the weapon threateningly at the stranger. “She’s mine, or she will be, but none of that matters right now. I’m only interested in turning you in and getting the bounty on that pretty-boy head of yours.” ​

Setsuko shifted on her stool and glanced at her friend. “Amaya, what do we do?” Amaya didn’t answer; she was glowering at the nobleman with a dangerous fury, desperately wishing she could strike the sneer off his face. ​But she couldn't risk her tavern- her  family depended on it. 

"Get him, boys,” Yasujiro ordered. Setsuko let out a shriek as the young men he’d been playing cards with drew their weapons, rushing towards the stranger- ​

And he was gone. Amaya and Setsuko blinked in astonishment- they hadn’t even seen him move! ​

There was a light laugh and the entire group turned around to fine the stranger standing behind them. “I’m not interested in picking a fight with you boys,” he said, addressing the rest of the group, though his narrowed eyes were still fixed on Yasujiro. “I’ve only got a problem with him.” Reaching into his belt, he drew his dagger with his left hand. ​

Setsuko covered her eyes, though she couldn’t help peeking through her fingers. “He’s injured, though. He can’t be serious about fighting him- he’ll get killed!” she stammered. ​

A dagger versus a sword? Wielding a weapon with his non-dominant hand? There was no way this fight could end well and Amaya knew she had to try and stop it somehow. Her heart was pounding as she stepped forward, keeping her broomstick within reach. But when she opened , her words betrayed her. “Gentlemen, please. Don’t…don’t do this,” she said lamely. ​

"Shut up, girl,” Yasujiro snarled and she twisted her lip slightly. He raised his rapier and lunged at the stranger, who easily dodged the blow. Yasujiro glowered at the other townspeople, who were still in awe over the stranger’s speed, demanding that they join in the fight. ​

The blood pulsing in her ears seemed to slow as she watched the men who frequented her tavern rush forward to aid the nobleman. She saw the stranger narrow his eyes, mouth set in a grim line as he raised his dagger. ​

A flash of gold crossed her vision and a voice that wasn’t her own urged her to act, to protect and thank the brave young man who had stepped up to defend her honor. He needs your help. ​

Before the crowd could take another step towards the dueling pair, she snapped off the whisk of her broom and planted herself between them and the townspeople. They skidded to a halt, staring at her in confusion as she held out the broom handle like a staff, barring their way. ​

“Amaya, what are you doing?” one of them snapped. ​

"It’s dishonorable to interfere in someone else’s fight,” she said calmly, though her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel it in . What the hell was that voice? What had possessed her to jump into the fray like that? This wasn’t like breaking up a normal bar fight- no, the force that had driven her to act this way was something greater. ​

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the stranger calmly dodging all of the older man’s strikes. Even injured, he was quick and light on his feet. Furthermore, Yasujiro’s rapier was built more for show than for actual attacks. He had training, but it was nothing compared to the stranger’s. ​

The young stranger glanced over at her and his eyes widened in horror. At the same time, Setsuko cried out, “Amaya, look out!” ​

Turning, she saw one of the young men who she knew, who had been a customer at her tavern every week for years, springing towards her, his dagger descending in a deadly arc to deliver the fatal blow, the promise of the wealth the bounty would bring overriding years of friendship-

​And then he tumbled back, gasping and clutching at the knife handle protruding from his shoulder. Setsuko screamed, just as the stranger let out a cry of pain. Amaya turned around just in time to see Yasujiro draw his rapier across the young man’s stomach. The stranger pressed his injured arm to the new wound, gritting his teeth as he glared up at the other man. ​

Yasujiro smirked. “Perhaps I should turn you in alive. The reward is greater that w-” ​

Before he could finish his sentence, the stranger lunged forward with his dagger, plunging it deep into the older man’s chest. ​

"Mr. Yasujiro!” The crowd of townspeople now pressed forward, surrounding the fallen man, who was now panicking, blubbering about how he didn’t want to die. No one paid attention as the stranger slumped to the ground, arm covering the gash on his stomach. ​

The broomstick clattered to the ground as Amaya stared at the blossoming wound on the stranger’s front, then darted towards her tormentor. Her mind raced back to the little her father had told her when showing how to treat the patrons’ injuries- “Injuries to the chest can be fatal, Amaya. The lungs and the heart are your body’s most precious organs and your ribs aren’t always the best shield." 

​“He needs help!” one of the men cried. “Both of them do!” ​

"But what about the criminal?” ​

"He’s in no condition to move. We’ll come back for him later!” ​

As the men clattered out the door, half-carrying, half-dragging the wounded with them, Setsuko knelt by the stranger’s side, hesitantly touching his shoulder, though she refused to look at his stomach. “Are…are you alright?” she whispered. ​

He managed a grim smile. “I’ve had worse.” ​

"Wounds to the stomach can be dangerous if they are deep, as there is nothing there to protect them”- Amaya shook off the memory of her father’s voice and marched over to the stranger. ​

"You should go,” she told him. “Now. Before they come back for you.”

​The stranger nodded, wincing as he tried to get up, but Setsuko pushed him down, glaring at her best friend. "He shouldn't be moving! Can’t you see that?” ​

"If he stays here, they’ll probably hang him, or worse,” Amaya snapped. ​

"Amaya, he saved your life,” Setsuko retorted. “He was distracted when he saw Taka attacking you and threw that knife to stop him.” She folded her arms. “The least you can do is help him.” ​

The tavern girl glanced back at the door, then at the stranger who was attempting to climb back to his feet and sighed. “Fine. Help me get him into the storeroom, and quickly.” ​

"I’m alright,” the stranger mumbled, but neither girl listened to him as they lifted him to his feet. Half-carrying, half-dragging him, they made their way into the storeroom and set him on the floor. ​“

"Setsuko, could you go get his flask for me?” Amaya asked. Her friend nodded and ran off and she turned to the stranger, lifting up his shirt. ​

“H-hey,” he protested weakly. ​

Ignoring him, she examined the wound. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with stab wounds and while deep, this one hadn’t penetrated any of his organs. He would probably recover, but the steady stream of blood flowing from the wound was worrisome. She needed to close it before infection set in, or his recovery might be that much more difficult. ​

Step one, stop the bleeding, she could almost hear her father instructing her. Pulling a clean handkerchief out of her pocket, she held it to the injury, ignoring the red soaking through the cloth and staining her fingers. ​"I can take care of it myself,” the stranger protested, propping himself up with his elbows. “Really-” ​

“Lie down and shut up,” she said brusquely. “And be grateful that I’m even bothering to help you.” After a moment, he smiled, recognizing her rudeness for what it was: worry. He lay back down without another word. ​

Setsuko returned with the flask just as Amaya was pulling a needle and thread out of her pocket. She tore off a corner of her apron and poured a bit of moonshine on it. “You want to watch this?” Amaya asked incredulously. ​

Setsuko shook her head. “I…I’m going to make sure no one comes looking for him here.” She quickly exited the back room, leaving Amaya alone with the stranger. ​

Step two, clean the wound. Carefully, Amaya dabbed the wound with the soaked cloth and he flinched, his entire body tensing in pain. “Sorry,” she murmured. “But, I-” ​

"I know,” he replied. His muscles slowly relaxed as he took a deep breath. She watched as he gritted his teeth tightly, his hands clenching and unclenching as she probed at the injury. How much was this really helping? Her father had drilled into her the importance of cleaning out fresh injuries with alcohol, though he had never explained why it was so crucial. ​

Step three, close the wound. His eyes widened a fraction as she bit off a length of thread and drew it through the needle. Placing her hands on either side of the gash to hold it together, she stopped, looking at him. He merely nodded for her to continue. Hesitating for a moment, she unbuckled her belt and held it out to the stranger. “You’re going to want to bite this.” He obediently opened his mouth and clenched the belt between his teeth. ​

To his credit, he didn’t make a sound as she stitched his wound closed and broke off the thread. “Give me your arm,” she ordered. He nodded, rolling up sleeve to reveal an ugly long gash. Too jagged and deep to have been an accident. ​

Amaya stared at it for a moment, before turning her eyes back to his face. “Who are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyebrows. ​

"I’m everything that bastard said I was,” the young man replied. “Criminal. Thief. Murderer.” He smiled slightly when she didn’t recoil in horror. “You can call me Donghae.” ​“

"Donghae,” she repeated. Rinsing off the cloth with alcohol, she gently washed off the dried blood around the gash. She was aware of his eyes following her every movement as she stitched the skin back together. ​

"Thank you,” she finally said. “For saving me twice tonight.”

​He shrugged carelessly. “Don’t mention it,” he replied, though he didn’t look at her as he said the words. Was he angry at being inconvenienced? ​

"What is it?” she asked. ​

He frowned deeply. “Miss Amaya,” Donghae replied. “You should have let me leave. I’m afraid I’ve put you in grave danger tonight. Helping me like this will only make Her angry.” ​

Amaya shivered. “The governess?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But why-” ​“I should go,” he said, rising to his feet.

“Thank you for your aid, Miss Amaya.” The moment he stood up, the blood loss finally took its toll. He swayed from side to side and toppled sideways onto the floor. ​

Setsuko reappeared, slightly paler than usual. “They came back looking for him…I told them he pushed us aside and ran away. They’re hunting for him outside the town now.” She swallowed hard. “Amaya…Mr. Yasujiro is dead.” ​

Dead. The word should have brought a cold feeling of horror, anger, or at least shock of some sort. Amaya expected to feel the numbness that had overpowered her when news of her father’s death arrived. Instead, she felt as if a large weight had been taken off her shoulders. Yasujiro was gone. The power he held over her was gone. She was free now. ​

Turning back to Donghae, she realized that the young man was unconscious. The loss of blood had overpowered him once his adrenaline rush had worn off. ​

Amaya slowly reached out a hand to him, grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him to his feet. As she draped one of his arms over her shoulders, she smiled slightly at the handsome, sleeping face. “Donghae,” she murmured. “I don’t believe I can ever repay you for what you’ve done. I am forever in your debt.” Shifting his weight so that he rested more comfortably on her back, she looked up at Setsuko. “You said that the townspeople are looking for him outside the village?” ​

Setsuko nodded. “In the woods, in the farms beyond the town…anywhere but here.” ​

“Let’s take him to my house, then,” Amaya replied. “It’ll be the last place they expect to look.”