Disclaimer/Author note: I do not own "Once Upon A Time" or "Bravely Default."

Warning: Takes place post-Season 1 for Once Upon A Time, and post-Bravely Default but before Bravely Second, therefore there will be spoilers for both OUAT and the Bravely series. Some canon-typical violence occurs. Some PTSD occurs also. It should be noted that this fic is an AU in the sense that Graham got his heart back in 1x07 before Regina found him and Emma at the vault, and therefore did not die after regaining his memories and lived through the Curse being broken.

Akin through our sins and beliefs

Summary: The Huntsman roams the forest again, and gains an unexpected human companion.

There were some things that Graham missed from not staying in Storybrooke, after the Curse broke.

For instance, toothpaste and toothbrushes. Dental hygiene was far from advanced in the Enchanted Forest in comparison. It took him some getting used to.

In the Enchanted Forest, there technically wasn't a place where he thought he could call home. He didn't always spend his nights at Regina's bed (the very thought of it made his jaw clench and his hands shake) and he did have his own place to sleep back in Storybrooke, in a bed. (But now bed made him think of Regina, because of all the times that he'd spent with her and now regretted, as well as how she enslaved him.) Then again, the woods were his real home. Always had been.

Then there were the people that weren't in the Enchanted Forest. Like Dr. Hopper. Henry.

Emma.

If anything, after the Curse broke, why didn't he stay for Emma and Henry?

Things hadn't…they hadn't felt right. Not completely. He'd been the first to remember, and he was so happy that he finally remembered who he was and where he came from. It hadn't been good to know that he'd nearly killed Emma's mother, but it was important. And he'd killed her those years ago, Emma and Henry both wouldn't exist. He was grateful now that he didn't do that.

Despite all that, Storybrooke wasn't a place he could call home anymore. He knew, after following that wolf to the vault and getting his heart, that towns and buildings just….didn't feel natural to him.

But the forest did.

Unfortunately, the forest area on the outskirts of Storybrooke weren't enough, even after the Curse broke. After over twenty-eight years of being shut into a sheriff's outfit and taking orders from the Evil Queen for her own selfish desires, he knew he couldn't take it anymore.

There was just too much misery in Storybrooke. Too many memories of miserable loneliness, unable to feel a thing.

He'd tried to explain this to Emma, sometime after the Curse broke. Made her the official Sheriff, because she would do a better job of protecting the town than he ever did. She had her family. She was with Henry, with her parents Snow and Charming. She'd be happy being with them, and despite his loving her he knew that it would be selfish to ask her to go with him.

She'd asked him to stay, but he knew he couldn't bring himself to do that.

So, he took one of the magic beans, opened up a portal, and got back to the Enchanted Forest while he could.

The furs he wore as the Huntsman felt so much better. So much more him. He missed the forest, and he was glad to be back…even if it meant being alone again.

It didn't take him long to find a wolf, though. One of his family. They roamed the woods once more, together.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been at a tavern, accompanied by the wolf of course. As he entered, however, the other patrons went quiet, or began speaking in hushed tones.

It's him.

The Evil Queen's lapdog. Her Huntsman.

Graham wanted to tell them he wasn't Regina's Huntsman anymore. That he was just the Huntsman, and nothing else. He wanted to tell them that the Evil Queen wasn't about to come back anytime soon, that he knew she was defeated because Emma broke the Curse.

But…how would they ever believe him?

A man knocked over his drink. Graham glared up at him, but the drunk wasn't about to leave him alone.

"What are ye doin' here?" The drunk demanded. "Crying over your dead animals again?"

Graham's blood warmed, and he felt it about to boil as he looked to the drunk, and he moved to take out his dagger as the wolf by his side growled because no one just insulted the noble animals like that without consequence—!

The door to the tavern opened, and Graham heard a voice call out.

"Put the weapon down."

The voice carried authority, despite its calmness. Graham and the drunk went still, looking to the voice's owner. A man stood there, his robes shades of green with hints of pink. His gloved, white hands were at his sides, but the Huntsman sensed that he'd be ready to take out the currently sheathed blade on him if necessary. He stood there, gazing right at the other men and the Huntsman, dark eyes having no fear.

"I'm sure we all came here to be merry," The man stated, "Not start a fight. You're scaring everyone else in here, and frankly I'd rather we all be at peace. There is no need for unnecessary bloodshed. If I were you, I'd forget all this and resume what you were doing before this gets out of hand."

"And who are you," The drunk drawled, "To think you can just make us do what you want?"

"It's not just what I want, sir," The green-robed man responded politely, "But also what everyone else wants." He looked to the other patrons. "Is that not true?"

Some of the other patrons nodded after a moment, agreeing with him. The Huntsman watched the man in green give the drunk one look, and immediately he shriveled away, going back to his drinks. Graham followed suit, putting his own dagger away, before sitting back down at his table. The wolf stopped growling, and went quiet, eyes gazing at the man in green still.

Footsteps came closer to him, and Graham looked up to see that man in green standing by his table. His eyes were gentler, now.

"I have to admit," He stated, "To take a knife out to defend even animals when they are just insulted…I don't know whether to call it reckless or not, but I think you have a heart towards them. That's a good thing. We often forget that animals can be good for us in more ways than just consuming them."

Graham wasn't sure what to think. Or say. "…Thank you." Another sip of his drink. The wolf at his side sniffed at the stranger, but did not growl at him.

The other paused, then spoke. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The Huntsman hesitated, then nodded. The other moved to sit opposite him. One of the ladies came close to him, about to place a drink on his table, but he waved it away, stating that he'd prefer something non-alcoholic. Though unamused, the lady went away, presumably to retrieve said drink for him.

Both men were silent, sitting at that table. Graham took a few more sips, then spoke.

"What do you want?"

The other was silent for a moment, then answered.

"Nothing from you. That is the truth."

"People always want something." Graham responded, and he knew that well. The Evil Queen came to mind, he tried his best to wash it away with another sip of his drink.

"I'd argue that it depends on the person." He looked him in the eyes, and Graham got stuck in them. "You're a person. What do you want?"

…Graham couldn't think of an answer.

The man in green did not smirk, or give anything reminiscent of a taunt, but he did raise an eyebrow briefly.

"I think you proved, sir, that not all people always want something from others."

"What do you want?"

The words escaped the Huntsman's mouth before he could stop them. The man in green this time was silent, and he wasn't sure if the other had an answer. But then he spoke.

"A purpose."

…

"Purpose."

Graham let that word slide over his tongue, through his lips, into the air between them. The man in green stayed silent, saying nothing in response to the other's repetition.

The Huntsman put his drink down, gazing right into the other's eyes. There was no fear, but there was a prickling of something in the other's eyes that he couldn't decipher.

"You never told me your name."

The man in green blinked.

"You never asked. Though…" He was served his non-alcoholic drink (a cup of tea) and he thanked the lady before taking a sip, placing his cup down before continuing to speak. "It's impolite of me not to introduce myself, I suppose. My apologies."

"I never asked." Graham shrugged. "It's fine."

The man in green gave him a faint smile.

"Many know me as the Swordmaster, former leader of Eternia's Black Blades. I'm Nobutsuna. Nobutsuna Kamiizumi."

Nobutsuna Kamiizumi. Sounded like a mouthful, and the Huntsman decided just to call him Kamiizumi. Or maybe Tsuna. That sounded easier to pronounce.

"Do you have a name?"

As soon as the question left Kamiizumi's lips, Graham opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped. No one knew him as Sheriff Graham Humbert in the Enchanted Forest, after all.

"They…" He paused, looking to his drink before finally speaking. "They just call me the Huntsman."

"The Huntsman."

Graham looked up to him, and he swore there was a smile on Kamiizumi's face.

"I'll call you Huntsman, then."

The two of them sticking together hadn't exactly been planned aloud between them. Before they could continue their conversation, some of the drunks at the tavern tried to fight them. The Huntsman hadn't used a dagger for years, but he still had his own physical strength to rely on. Kamiizumi had a katana, going on the defensive and letting the enemy strike first—not that the enemy really had any chance of hitting him, given the man's defend-and-counter tactics.

Then they got kicked out of said tavern. At least they didn't have to pay for their drinks.

The sudden gain of such a companion was…different, to Graham. Granted, he had wolves travelling with him and the wolf currently with them didn't mind the Swordmaster's presence, but then again said Swordmaster was very much a person. Human.

Human companionship was not the Huntsman's forte. Even back in Storybrooke, Graham knew he was quite awkward when it came to human interaction.

Thankfully, it didn't seem to be Kamiizumi's forte, either. Both men were rather silent as they walked through the woods, the wolf walking by Graham's side while the Swordmaster was at the other side.

"Have you been by yourself long, other than being with your wolven companion?"

It was Kamiizumi that asked. The Huntsman blinked, looking to the Swordmaster quietly. Said Swordmaster looked back at him.

"I'm just curious, that's all." He stated, to explain his asking. "When I saw you, back at the tavern…you looked a bit lost. Missing something. Maybe someone."

The kiss with Emma came back to mind, and the Huntsman forced it away. He'd made his choice. He was going to move on, and she had to, too.

"Technically, not too long." The Huntsman finally managed, looking up at the Swordmaster. "It's complicated, and a long story."

Kamiizumi took a deep breath. "I have a lot of time on my hands. I can listen to the full story, if you do not mind telling it."

Graham didn't tell him everything—not all at once. But he did tell him some things, like how he was once cursed (he didn't tell him about Regina because he couldn't bring himself to, but he told him about that other curse that affected everyone else).

Talking about age got awkward quickly, though.

"How old are you, really?" Kamiizumi asked.

The Huntsman shrugged. "I don't know."

"You…don't?" The Swordmaster looked a bit surprised. The Huntsman shrugged. Both men went into silence, and then Graham realized he should probably explain.

"…raised by wolves." The Huntsman finally mumbled it after a few moments. "I don't know my birthday." He paused, before looking up at the other. "How old do I look?"

"Well…" Kamiizumi eyed the other up and down for a few moments, before speaking. "In my opinion, I'd say mid-twenties to early thirties—let's just go with twenty-five, to be simple about it. I myself am forty-five."

"You have to add twenty-eight years to me." Graham reminded him. "The Curse, remember?"

"Oh, right." The Swordmaster gave him a somewhat blank stare. "…That makes you older than me, technically. If you were twenty-five and we add twenty-eight, you're about fifty-three…and if you're older than that…"

The Huntsman's nose wrinkled at the idea of being that old. "Actually, let's leave that subject be. However old I was before the Curse, I'm clearly older than you now."

The other nodded, wisely dropping the subject. "Agreed."

They hadn't expected to come across a literally crumbling house.

Especially not one made of gingerbread.

At least the whole roof hadn't fallen in, despite all the rain. They had to take shelter of some sort, and this would have to be the best they could do. Usually they went for a cave, maybe an inn if they had the money on them, but gingerbread house it was, this time.

The sight of the bones by the unlit fireplace made Kamiizumi flinch, the Huntsman noticed, and it made him wonder if the man witnessed such horrors or similar ones in the past. He noticed the other begin to tremble, breath getting shaky, and Graham blinked.

"Kamiizu—"

"I need a moment." The other cut in. The Swordmaster looked pained, and he moved to walk back to the doorway of the house, leaning against it with one hand. "Th-those bones…they're…"

Graham looked to the bones again. It took him a moment to realize what they were, the words escaping his lips.

"…children's bones."

He looked to the trembling Swordmaster in the doorway, then to the bones once more, swallowing. Even if they were human, Graham couldn't comprehend why anyone would kill their own kind and keep their remains as trophies. Now that he thought about it, he thought of Henry and he grimaced. He couldn't imagine young Henry having that same fate.

He pushed the memory of Henry away and hesitantly looked to the Swordmaster. Clearly the man was in distress—mourning over the children that were long gone. Graham remembered—he'd heard rumors throughout the castle of the Evil Queen sending two children to fetch something for her, to this place…only for most children to get eaten. She'd sent them off to their deaths, for her selfish needs, and didn't give a damn about their lives. Didn't cry over them like Kamiizumi did.

Just one more reason to hate her, and one more reason to remind him that Kamiizumi couldn't be anything like her.

"Tsuna." Graham looked up at Kamiizumi, who turned to face him. The man was struggling to hold it together, evident in his clenched jaw and balled fists at his side. "This isn't your fault. You didn't do this."

Bits and pieces of laughter escaped the other at that, and he shook with it. It was clear, though, that he was sorrowful.

"That's where you're wrong. Very, very wrong." The Swordmaster tightly shut his eyes, then opened them again. "I-I've…I've caused the deaths of children, too. Not…" He gestured to the bones. "Not these ones. I've never stepped foot in this land, let alone this area of it, but I've done it before."

"You…have?"

"Yes." Kamiizumi swallowed, pushing a few black strands of hair out of his face. "I've let children be sent to their deaths. I'm not that different."

The Huntsman needed a moment to let it sink in. So the Swordmaster was guilty of crimes the Evil Queen did as well. But unlike her, he evidently felt different about said crimes.

"Back…back at Eisen, where I helped lead a civil war," Kamiizumi managed through rehearsed breaths, "the Swordbearers, the people I worked with, enslaved children of innocent civilians and send them to the mines to fetch ore and other metals for them. Children died in those mines. I tried to get the Swordbearers to stop this and just use their own soldiers, but they protested that they needed their own to hold up the fighting against the Shieldbearers. In the end, I had no choice but to let them do what they did. That was…it was out of my control."

A sigh escaped him, shaking his head. "I know my inability to stop that doesn't excuse the deaths I've caused and allowed in the war. It haunts me and forever will. I remember the last time I visited those mines. I saw children collapse, starved and exhausted. I saw their dead bodies be thrown into the lava where it burst through the rocks, and I…I did nothing."

It took Graham a moment to realize the man was crying again.

Here the Swordmaster was, standing here, admitting to more of his sins. But the Huntsman could also see it—regret—in the other. He saw the care that man had for those children, even if those children belonged to strangers.

It was clear now—Kamiizumi was a selfless man.

Not perfect, but selfless. No one could ever be perfect, but they sure as hell could be selfless.

And it was also clear that not every person was so black and white. It might've taken Graham twenty-eight years and more to figure that out, but he was sure he figured it out now.

"What will you do if something like it happens again?"

The Huntsman had to ask. He was aware that comforting people was far from his strong suit, let alone a grieved Swordmaster. Said Swordmaster swallowed away some tears, trying to wipe his face with a gloved hand quickly enough.

"I was weak enough to let it happen once, Huntsman." The other managed. "I'm not going to let it happen again."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes."

"…You better keep your word."

Villagers screamed as bandits tore through the village, looting and raiding everything they could find.

Kamiizumi sprang into action—he did not condone this. He did not want this happening. He wanted it to stop—and he'd make it stop.

Graham found himself fighting alongside him. And for some reason, he questioned why he did so.

He'd despised humans. Tried not to be around them, years and years ago. Being the Evil Queen's slave, for about twenty-eight years, did not help this.

Why stay by this man's side, then? It wasn't like they'd forced each other to, they just…banded up together out of some strange circumstance of getting kicked out of a tavern each other. And yet, it wasn't like it was hugely uncomfortable. The discomfort ceased a bit over time, and…

Graham didn't get the time to think more about that, because an arrow came flying his way and Kamiizumi pushed him out of the way. The arrow's tip tore into the Swordmaster's left shoulder, a hiss escaping him, and Graham berated himself for not paying attention. Thoughts came later. Action first.

"Kamiizumi, are you—"

"I'm fine!" The Swordmaster tore the arrow out of his shoulder, grunting and tossing it aside, before swiping with his katana to destroy another arrow that was aimed at Graham. The Swordmaster lunged at the archer, knocking the bow and arrow out of the archer's hands, and the man fled his sight.

Taking a deep breath, the Swordmaster looked around. "Are there any other bandits left?"

Graham quickly surveyed their surroundings, then shook his head.

"It's clear. We're clear."

The cry of a child tore through the air, and it was Kamiizumi that rushed to the source of the sound. Graham followed him—only to stop at the sight. It was a little girl, lost and afraid.

"M-momma…I want my momma!"

"Your mother?" Kamiizumi went on a knee, looking to the child despite his still-bleeding wound. "Child…do you know what she looks like? I can find her for you."

The child sniffled as she looked to Kamiizumi, eyes wide, but she managed to speak. "Sh-she's got hair like m-me…and eyes like poppa's."

"What colour are your poppa's eyes?" The way he spoke was so soft and gentle. For a moment, Graham thought he was looking at a father comforting his daughter. But Kamiizumi was not the father of this child, and she was not his daughter, either.

"B-blue…"

"What's your name? And your mother's name?"

"Donna. They call my momma Petunia."

"Okay…okay, Donna. We'll find your mother." Kamiizumi looked to Graham. "I can stay with the child, Huntsman—we can't just leave her alone. Can you find Miss Petunia?"

Graham looked to the child, then Kamiizumi, and then nodded.

"Yeah. I can do that."

It didn't take long to find the mother Petunia, who was desperately trying to find her child Donna. They'd gotten separated when the bandits appeared earlier, and so both mother and child were grateful for Kamiizumi and Graham getting them reunited—and also got Kamiizumi's shoulder mended, too.

Graham remembered the look in Kamiizumi's face when he'd initially left him with the little girl—Kamiizumi, hesitating, unsure of what to do. And yet, when he returned with the girl's mother, Kamiizumi had quietly distracted the girl by telling her stories of his own travels, and there was a light in his eyes. A hopeful light, a connection.

Graham couldn't help but smile at that. Reminded him a bit of himself and Henry, just a bit.

Maybe Kamiizumi was a person he could really trust.

"I don't usually like humans."

Kamiizumi sat across him as he sat back a bit, watching the fire cook the meat the Huntsman, well, earlier hunted. "I think we established that, yes."

"And yet I'm still here with you."

"Yes. That's also true." A pause, gazing at the flickering flames, then… "Graham. Do you trust me?"

"No. Not in the beginning."

"But what about now?"

"…Now? Yes."

"I'm glad to hear that. I didn't think anyone could trust me again. Not after all I did."

"You're human. You make mistakes. I did, too—and I'm surprised you haven't asked much about mine."

"The past is difficult to speak of."

"And yet you found it easy to speak about."

"It wasn't easy. If you'd asked about all that at least a year ago, I would've froze up." Kamiizumi looked the Huntsman in the eyes, but his gaze was far from judgemental. "Opening up about these things, Graham…that takes time. The last thing I want to do is rush you on that."

But the words came out that night, Graham recalling everything the Evil Queen ever did to him—how she took his heart, how she took him to her bedchambers and wouldn't let him go, not even after the Curse struck and how he had no idea until after he got his heart and memories back that he was actually enslaved to her.

It hurt and it hurt.

And it hurt.

The Swordmaster never once commented or said anything about it while Graham talked into the night, but just listened. And honestly, Graham just needed someone who could listen.

Perhaps both of them were flawed and broken.

But at least they weren't alone, right?

That was something that occurred to the Huntsman as they traveled together.

"Kamiizumi. Remember how we spoke of purpose?"

"Yes. I remember. Have you thought of one?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"This." Graham gestured to himself and then to the Swordmaster. "The two of us, moving forwards. Travelling together. Maybe that's our purpose."

The Swordmaster blinked. At first, he seemed surprised, but then his lips turned upwards, just a bit.

"…Maybe it is."