The way people write Fushi and Kahaku's dynamic always circles back to that central tension—what's given freely versus what's demanded. Every interaction in the source material is built on this unsteady ground: Kahaku's devotion is absolute, but it's born from a literal divine mandate and a family legacy that's more curse than calling. Fushi, who's learning what it means to be human, doesn't have a framework for that kind of obsessive loyalty. He trusts actions, not words or bloodlines.
A lot of fanfiction that digs into trust starts from Kahaku's side of things. There's this interesting trend in darker or more introspective fics to explore his loyalty not as pure devotion, but as a kind of psychological dependency. He needs Fushi to be worthy of his sacrifice, otherwise his entire lineage, his identity, collapses. That's where the trust gets twisted—it's not 'I trust you will do good,' it's 'I must trust you are the good, so my suffering means something.' Fushi's gradual understanding of that weight, of being someone's entire moral compass, is where the best stories live. It's less about romantic trust and more about the horror of being responsible for another person's existential meaning.
I've read a few that flip it, where Fushi is the one learning to place trust in Kahaku's hands, not in his mission but in his fractured humanity. Those are harder to write well, because Kahaku is so rigid in canon. The loyalty becomes something malleable, reshaped by Fushi's influence, moving from blind duty to a chosen bond. It makes the moments where Kahaku does act against his conditioning—small hesitations, privately questioning the Church—feel like monumental breaches of trust with his own past, all for a sliver of approval from the being he's meant to serve. The tragedy is that by the time that loyalty might become healthy, the story's events often sweep that possibility away.