defect.

It wasn’t often that Izuminokami wished for his older brother’s help; but, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, Kasen’s help would be a godsend at this particular moment. Matching the other’s scowl with one of his own, the Uchigatana made a harassed noise as Yamanbagiri started to swat at him.

“Heh~?! Don’t hit me, Yamanbagiri! I’m going to tell Aruji~!” Once again, the words and childish tone of voice betrayed the Uchigatana’s young age as he tried and failed to take the other’s dilapidated cloak from him. “Yamanbagiriiiii! What would Aruji or your brothers say if they saw you like this?! You can’t just, waaah—?!”

A yelp was torn from Izuminokami’s mouth as Yamanbagiri suddenly managed to yank himself free, causing them both to stumble. At once, Izuminokami’s arm darted out again, not to catch hold of the other’s cloak, but to seize his arm into an attempt to keep the older sword steady. (And really, to stop him running off) In fact, so concerned about Yamanbagiri, Izuminokami didn’t realize his own perilous situation until a stinging sensation srpead across a knee that was now on the ground, followed swiftly by a familiar wetness.

“A-agh, dammit…! Yamanbagiri, are you alright?”

Honestly, if it weren’t for him being the same type of blade, Yamanbagiri would have brushed Izuminokami off as an overgrown tantou. An extremely bratty one, at that. If he recalled correctly, most (or few) of the tantous never acted like... this.

❝ If they saw me, but they’re not here now, so just—Oi! ❞ Flinching as his arm was successfully apprehended, his patience quickly began to wore with Izuminokami’s persistence. All fruitless attempts to wriggle free reaped a groan from Yamanbagiri, who turned to toss a glare at the Uchigatana; but halted as he noticed the dire state of the other.

       had it been anyone else, the sage would have stepped back, ran away. had it been anyone else, he wouldn’t have stood with his head high and not even a change of expression. yamanbagiri kunihiro may look at him deep in the eye to try to relay the message across, but there is no hesitation from words that said leave me be, i’m insignificant, why have you even summoned me and not the original?

       sometimes, the saniwa asked himself the same. why had he chosen the fake instead of the original? rather, he notices, it had never been a matter of choosing. it was simply that yamanbagiri had been there since the beginning, and whether they were fakes or not, whether it was yamanbagiri, horikawa, nagasone or sohaya, it never mattered. fakes or not, they were, first and foremost, his trusted swords.

       his beloved friends.

       ❛ yes yes, maybe it is for some spoiled samurai or daimyou or something of the kind. maybe some sword enthusiastic who doesn’t know how to actually be an enthusiastic but… i’m neither, you know. i’m just a sage. ❜ the saniwa sighs, and looks at the uchigatana with the same kind of eyes he had looked at him. fierce and unwavering, and for such a shy and timid boy to have this kind of posture… well, it did take long to get to this point. ❛ i don’t really care whether you’re the original or a duplicate or whatever. you’re not just my sword, yamanbagiri. i can’t see any of you as just an object, or a tool to use. ❜ because he would never do to others what humans had done to him, years past. ❛ you’re my… friends. my partners, my companions. i don’t care if you’re a fake, i like you for who you are. even though i would be a lot happier if you dropped this really depressing talk. it offends me that you think i would abandon you for being a ‘fake’. it’s almost like you don’t know me. ❜ 

       after all, if he had kept not only yamanbagiri, but many other ‘fake’ swords in his citadel for so long, why would it be now that he would dispose of them?

After the saniwa’s unforeseen gentle, albeit, sharp outburst, one would expect the copy to retaliate with why he should be abandoned; why he truly did not deserve the sage’s cordiality and why... he wasn’t his friend.

And yet, the act never came. Fingers tugging down the hood almost direly, the blade began fidgeting in his place. Was it out of shame? Anxiety? Or perhaps, inability to speak? The latter proved to be more accurate in this case, however if you were to peer at the Uchigatana’s expression now, the best way to describe his behavior was...

...embarrassment? 

❝ D-Don’t just suddenly say stuff like that, because I’m only a— ❞ fake? Yes, he was. But Yamanbagiri bit back the forbidden word upon Aruji’s wishes. Friend, partner, companion. The saniwa drilled those words into his head; maybe not enough to completely rid of his insecurities, but enough to alleviate it, for now. ❝ ...I apologize for my indecent conduct. However, I cannot vouch for the ‘depressing talk’. ❞

   So being randomly transported to this labyrinth was one thing but being stripped from his powers was and given useless weapons was another. He had no idea why he was giving a bucket and a spade. It was so useless in his eyes but he didn’t say anything about it considering it seems to be more useful than his teammate’s weapons. Shun just follows his teammates until apparently they were trapped. The door was locked and there a small pond that seems to be filled with piranhas next to them.

  When Shun heard one of his teammates say that he sees a key at the bottom of the pond he was a bit relieved until he heard him state that he should be used at bait. He was appalled. “Excuse me? I have a name. Its Aonuma Shun. Also I’m not going in as a bait. Why don’t you go in as bait?” he says with a glare.

  He then turns to his other teammate.“Hey blondie since you’re the so-called leader you should go in as bait. You can use my spade to fend your self too” he says with a smirk as he hands him one of his weapons.

@afoloz

❝ Oi. ❞ Just as he was about to step into their pointless banter, the entire bait ordeal was shifted upon him. As Shun handed over one of his weapons to Yamanbagiri, he mulled over the other’s words. While it seemed to be more of a taunt than a suggestion, truthfully, the (temporarily former) blade had no qualms to it. After all, scars are bound to be sustained from a battlefield, and he’s a regular to it. To further distinguish himself from the original Yamanbagiri, his chance is right there—

—No.

Aruji would be disappointed in him... Were he his past self from two years back, the saniwa could not waver his resolve. But now... he’s expected to return, and Headmistress did emphasize that death is permanent outside Hiraeth barriers. Though, unlike his teammates, the penalty had no affect on Yamanbagiri, seeing as it’s simple to just re-smith him later on; however, perhaps they didn’t need it, but he was to lead his party out of the labyrinth, alive.

❝ ...Can’t we scoop them out with your spade and bucket? ❞ Kinda akin to Kingyo Sukui, except they had a viable scooper and hostile fish. ❝ We might not get them all out, but it’s better than becoming shredded meat. ❞

Naturally, as the leader and of past experiences, he scouted the dingy labyrinth first before moving onward; luckily enough, they haven’t ran into any monsters yet. Emerald waves peered back in comfort knowing his teammates were still near and unharmed, though perhaps seemingly restless from lack of action. All three didn’t have the most.. formidable weapons, he noted, but he’s confident that they’ll manage... somehow. 

Spotting a door on what was thought to be another dead end, Yamanbagiri held an arm out to halt the other two men, cautiously approaching to inspect the dreary layout. After deeming it to be safe, the Uchigatana nudged the door open and poked his head in, eyes darting everywhere to only find a single, circular pit of water smack in the center and an exit on the other end. It may appear harmless, but the entire display screamed suspicious; so he tapped on the walls, floor—everywhere until it proved its innocence.

Which only left the door and the floor cavity. Considering the outcome, as obvious as it was, he still reached out and jiggled the knob. 

...Of course,

❝ Don’t expect much from me. ❞ A grumble to match the downcast gaze. Yamanbagiri eyed the theatrical symbol that signified his role in this so-called test; the symbol that meant Team Leader. Only on rare occasions were he ever assigned to be the formation’s captain, but he wasn’t foreign to the duty, thankfully. However...

A circle.  

   pain is subjective , open to dispute , and imperceptible unless it is one’s own ;; countenance once GLORIFIED for unsurpassable glamour now buckles ‘neath a grimace. how FORTUNATE he is that this was trivial in comparison , DISORIENTED and SPEECHLESS , yet able to walk with naught a bruise in sight. a muffled thump captures interest , brows furrowed in short-lived expectation of a prolonged rampage , though all he could make out was a similarly disgruntled uchigatana. try as he might to appear concerned , his laughter is obvious. MELODIC TUNE , demonstrating neither discontent or annoyance  / just genuine jocundity — good humor , if you will.   ❛ you needn’t worry. it is not as though you were intentionally trying to run me over! ~ ❜

   he adjusts himself 'afore a COMPLAINT sets fire to his throat , manifesting as a whimper / sharp pain lanced through pulsating muscles , intensifying with each ineffective endeavor at standing. this , certainly , was not his day. discomfort and something mirroring nervousness dusted ashen features , lunette irises rejecting connection to emerald waves — head bowed as nervous laughter falls. oh , how he loathes being an inconvenience. had he the strength and means , mikazuki would send the sword on his way all while offering reassurance he would be ( MORE THAN ) fine on his own. digits clad in leather BURROW into disturbed terrain , barely touching offered palm out of…shame , perhaps?

   ❛ haha , this is a bit unfortunate. I do not wish to place burden on you —— but my back REALLY HURTS. ❜   don’t make your elder ask to be carried out loud , this is already embarrassing.

Were he not feeling guilt, this would be a sight to behold, though he’s sure that the other swords would find it more entertaining rather than him.

❝ ... ❞ Yamanbagiri took in the last few words. Burden? No... He’s definitely not placing the burden on him—it’s the reverse, isn’t it? Ah, but he could make it up to Mikazuki if he assisted him, maybe being useful for once.  

Fingers scarcely brushed, earning a deeper frown from the Uchigatana. He retreated momentarily to fully capture hand clothed in hide, no forewarning when heaving the Tachi up from the ground. Albeit, he underestimated the horse’s vigor, as he noticed the blade lurching over with a free palm on the back. ...Or was this a natural occurrence for someone of old age?

       ❛ ‘ why ’, you ask… ❜ it’s both that he didn’t quite have a choice, and that…

       mhm, yamanbagiri kunihiro had always been like that. he knows little about the uchigatana; knows that he is nothing but a fake, he says, knows that something so beautiful puts little worth in himself. in a way, the saniwa didn’t like spending time with the other. not out of hatred, or disgust, or because he was a replica but because yamanbagiri had always reminded the sage of himself. of the truth about his disgusting, ugly feelings, of how little worth he, too, put in himself.

       the saniwa doesn’t hate the uchigatana, let alone wishes to dispose of him. for someone who reminded of himself so much, what he wished the most for the kunihiro was – – – –

       happiness.

       ❛ i can’t possibly let someone steal my swords and not go after them, right? ❜ even if they weren’t his per se, even if the saniwa had only borrowed them, their power… many of them have been with him for two years. more than anything, for the sage, the swords were… friends. companions. spirits he felt far too much over.  ❛ i was worried. i… i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if i let anything happen to you. ❜ to any of you.

Emerald hues scrutinized over the sage; a vain attempt to locate any cracks of hesitation, doubts, deceit—anything.

And yet, again, he was foiled by honesty.

That’s how it always started and ended. His dolorous and repetitive thoughts, overlapping after one and another, tumbling down once the saniwa spoke nothing but the truth—even if it were a sentence or two. Still, he held reluctance to believe such words. After all, two years, and the impasse remained between the sword and the sage. 

Yamanbagiri is more than aware of his intricate self for this fault; however, old habits die hard, as they say.

❝ You needn’t worry about me. ❞

   a few seconds in and he realizes their picturesque terrain is fabrication — a REPLICATION of wondrous expanse , freckled with delicate , fragrance-free daisies. sunlight , however blinding , offers limited comfort  ;;  already unimpressed by the overindulgence so unabashedly publicized. he breathes a sigh , huddled ‘neath a tree his touch perceives to be genuine even if his mind knows otherwise. unsparing commentary THUNDERS 'cross the room , another wide-eyed student on the receiving end of a lecture , the fourth in fifteen minutes. mikazuki almost pities them. more or less , anyways , their disturbance allowing him the opportunity to slip away.

   curiosity laces his countenance as SHRIEKS circulate , warnings and instructions projected towards his general direction , putting a temporary halt on escaping.   ——was that an ESCAPED HORSE?   oh , oh that was a runaway horse. it is a miracle how mobile one can become once faced with danger. it’d be effortless , alarmingly so , to get rid of the problem ; yet rather than attract undesirable attention , mikazuki simply steers clear of the animal’s rampage. or tries to. (UN)fortunately , the animal has taken a LIKING to him , and he’s hardly time to react ‘afore wandering hoof connects with his back.

   fingers reach out , almost knocking the rider off whilst colliding into the ground , the animal’s hind leg just missing his head. lunette oculars quiver , squinting whilst cranium tilts ever so slightly. it might be shock , or perhaps it’s relief of witnessing a familiar face , he laughs either way.   ❛ oya? yamanbagiri? ❜ 

❝ …Mikazuki. ❞

Yamanbagiri spoke in return with acknowledgement of the Tachi, whose laugh earned a small grunt from the Uchigatana.

At last, the frenzied beast settled as soon as it hurled its rider not far from the toppled lunar, simply trotting off to graze elsewhere and leaving Yamanbagiri to meet an undignified end. Befitting, even— a fabricated mural for a fabrication of no significance, wouldn’t you say? Unfortunately, the collision did not cause any major damages to the imitation, as he hoped; but crashing into none other than Mikazuki Munechika erased all ill thoughts.

To say he was relieved would not be a lie; but those emerald irises of envy betrayed him once again upon surveying the other. Even without the sumptuous and blinding attire, beauty was a prominent trait of Mikazuki unrivalled. 

@afoloz

“Oiii~! Yamanbagiri, are you still wearing that old cloak?! Even with this new uniform? Is that even allowed?”

So saying the Uchigatana gently tugged on the other’s robes, a bemused expression his face. He didn’t have a problem with it; in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was nice to see that in this ever-churning sea of change, there was at least one constant.

But still, Yamanbagiri could have at least brought a clean cloak with him…

“Yamanbagiriii! If you have to keep a cloak on, can’t you get a new one instead of this ratty thing? It’s not stylish at all, it’s kinda embarrassing~!” was the complaint, Izuminokami’s tugging getting slightly more insistent with each word.

With the absence of Kasen Kanesada, he was finally free from the Uchigatana’s constant badger over his cloak. Free to roam around without any worries—other than the clear, of course.

But if only things were that simple, per se.

As unfortunately, the freedom was temporary, when entered another Uchigatana who filled in the position left by Kasen; which was wholly unnecessary in Yamanbagiri’s case. Because unlike Izuminokami, at least the purple-haired knew when to quit.

❝ Mind your own business. ❞

It came out more of a hiss than he intended, but nonetheless held the same vexation. Had it not been for the dilapidated state of his mantle, escape would’ve been swift and an option long accomplished. Sadly, Izuminokami grew increasingly urgent with each tug, earning a scowl from the other sword and occasional swats.

kiss meme25. back kiss

Dragons were no more than a myth. Large creatures roaming the land, marking the skies for their own and causing havoc—all were naught but ludicrous tales. 

And yet, one stood before him.

The Uchigatana had to admit: it was underwhelming. No magnificent wings, no razor sharp talons, no old yet glistening scales and… well, nothing like the fire-fanged beasts he heard of. Instead this one, like him, had a corporeal form. 

Curiously, the sword circled the so-called dragon, noting that the pointed ears were really the only prominent feature of one. Despite this, the blade felt as if he should show some form of respect to these well regarded creatures. As Corrin continued to explain his draconic relations, Yamanbagiri took the chance and lowered himself behind the other, planting a hesitant kiss against the fabric.

kiss meme48. hit-and-run kiss

After the sage’s gentle reassurance that he did deserve the gesture, he sealed up the rest of his insecurities for the former’s sake. Still, Aruji blessed him with a kiss akin to the heavens, even if it was a small peck on the cheek; the sword owed him one in return, one far more deserving for someone like their saniwa—that is, if this copy was capable of bestowing.

Once the perfect opportunity unveiled, and without any forewarning to boot, the Uchigatana leaned in and closed their distance. No force, no desperation. Just like saniwa’s peck, it was delicate… and clumsy. 

——But full of the last whit left of the duplicate’s love. 

The kiss ended short when Yamanbagiri drew back, attempting to hide his cherry-red face beneath his entire cloak. And before Aruji was spared any moment to open his mouth…

kiss meme42. temple kiss

Grimace swept over the sword’s face in a matter of seconds. After what happened during dinner, he really did not want to meet them again. But, alas, fate loved being a fickle to him in particular.

Not sparing a glance or two, Yamanbagiri continued onward to his dorm. It would be an easy task per se; except, this person… followed him every turn and step. Why? Is it because he’s an imitation? Or were they expecting something in return for that——shudder.

Drawing his weapon would do no good here, so he spun around to meet their eyes. They were both the same height, which made his last resort all the more simple. Effortlessly, he raised himself higher than the other, placing a small kiss on the side of their forehead. With a small tug of his hood, he turned, a clear tinge of red dusting his cheeks.

   ❛ that is the point of PRACTICE , yamanbagiri. ❜

❝ Practice is meaningless with your current case, Mikazuki. ❞