Ayumin

A quick adventure to the kitchen to grab his tea and cup, brought him back to his favorite spot, a perfect view of the tantous running on the hill and the sun hitting his skin just right to warm him up. Sakurayu tea settled in the cup in his hand as the steam rose to remind him of the lovely scent of the lost sakura trees of the summer. Enjoying the warmth of the drink sliding down his throat as Samidare hides in the branches of a tree just above poor Gokotai, who has not been able to tag anyone yet. A pitying smile on Himetsuru’s face as he watches the sad act before him. Perhaps after his tea he will help the poor boy out. Regardless of the persona Himetsuru tries to keep up around the citadel, his heart is very weak towards the tantous; especially the Uesugi clan tantous. Going from a cold beauty that can only behold from a far to a tall crane that just wanted to wrap his kids in his arms and become brotherly to all of them. A weakness he wouldn’t ask to get rid of. 

His day was going as per usual. Late wake up, tea to start his day while watching the tantous play… He was only missing one aspect to his day to complete the daily routine.

“Himetsuru-san.” Called a voice to his left. Ah, there is the last piece that was missing from his day. The saniwa that always interrupted his tea time to try to playfully talk to him, trying to make him smile any which way that was possible. Only for his cold stare to look over at them and a grumble of his breath as they approached him everyday. He would always treat them passively with no interest, yet they kept coming back to garner his affections. So far, it has not worked and he was not going to let them win. Afterall, his allure was that he was like a painting on a wall. He couldn’t let anyone get close to him and tire of him after getting what they want. He has to keep pulling them along.

“So you finally show up, aru-” Himetsuru’s voice got caught in his throat as his aloof gaze rested on the voice to his left. His eyebrows rose slightly at who appeared before him. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else. What can I help you with, Juzumaru-dono?”

The tall figure, even taller than Himetsuru, smiled politely at the pale sword. His hair swayed ever so slightly in the summer breeze as he held his hands clasped before his person. His eyes never opened to show that he was aware of who was around him, yet he found Himetsuru anyway. Clearly he had a way of seeing. Though, that was a mystery that no one truly knew the answer to. A mystery that Himetsuru was slightly intrigued by but wouldn’t die without finding out the answer to it. Juzumaru kept his distance from other swords normally but was polite to all he did encounter. Himetsuru had a positive perspective of the wise sagely sword and couldn’t find it in his heart to be aloof to such a person. 

“I apologize for interrupting your tea, Himetsuru-san. However, it seems like you are setting the table for dinner today with Mouri-kun. He is currently awaiting your help.”

Well this is a surprising turn of events, indeed. Any work that he had to do that involved him getting messy were events of him complaining before, during, and long after it had been done. Although he complained that his hair is forever ruined by the soil getting into it, he never went against the wishes of the saniwa and followed orders. He whined about it to them on occasion, just to tease them, but over time he began to notice that he was assigned less to citadel work that required him to dirty his form. It would be a lie to say that realizing this fact did not make him rosy at the cheeks with a grin on his doll-like face. Was he truly that valued to his saniwa that they would go out of their way to soften his childish woes as such? 

Clearly not since that very same saniwa refused to show their face at their daily tea time. He may have not invited them at the start, but they kept inviting themselves each time. It felt strange for them to suddenly not appear. He did not like his routine to be messed with because of a troublesome master. One last tip of his sweet tea brought him to his feet to go help the green-haired tantou with the table.

“Thank you for telling me,” Himetsuru bowed slightly to one of the great heavenly swords and collected his things to make his way to the dining area. 

….

An alluring aroma drifted into the dining hall as Himetsuru stepped through the door. Mouri was already setting down plates for the meal to come. His soft violet eyes drifting up to see the new presence within the hall and a cheerful smile appearing as his eyes landed on Himetsuru.

“Himetsuru-san! Good afternoon!” He cheered, nearly dropping a plate he was balancing but his quick reflexes saved the day before glass covered the floor before him. 

A barely visible smile found its way onto Himetsuru’s lips. Although small, full of compassion for the young sword. He found his way to the tantou, carefully lifting the burden of the plates from his hands and softly patting his head.

“Afternoon, dear Mouri. You have worked hard. Go play and I will take care of the rest, alright?” A tedious job that was setting the table for the large citadel but a job he will do himself for the sake of Mouri to enjoy the last remaining sun with his brothers. Plus, it would give him quiet time to go over why the saniwa decided to not show their face to him today. It was unusual. 

Mouri’s brows knitted together in worry at such a big task, clearly not wanting to leave Himetsuru to take on such a task by himself. A simple tilt of his head to the door and a look of ‘I will not take no as an answer’ was all that was needed. He was not going to take Himetsuru's kind offer for granted and argue, ruining the peaceful atmosphere within the hall. His footsteps padded against the mat under his feet as he made his way to the door, only to stop when Himetsuru called out to him as he opened it to escape into the hall. Mouri’s head turned to gaze at him, a confused and concerned expression clear on his face. Did he decide he wanted Mouri’s help after all? 

“Have you seen Aruji today? Are they unwell?” Himetsuru asked, a bit quiet from his normal voice and his eyes not connecting to the tantou’s as they usually did. The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. If they didn’t show up to their expected meeting time then it could very well be that they are feeling under the weather. In that case, Himetsuru can not be mad or assume absurd conclusions from them missing. 

“Oh! Yes, I have. They are doing well! I brought tea to them as they did paperwork.” Mouri exclaimed cheerfully as Himetsuru sullenly nodded his head, dismissing them. His grip on the plates tight as he got to work to release them from his grasp.

‘So they are well and missed coming to converse with me because of paperwork? Have they fallen behind on their work? That does not sound like them at all. They always made time for the swords in the citadel and did their work in a timely manner, though sometimes having to go late in the night before they put it off too long. So… That means they are avoiding me?’ Himetsuru dropped a plate at a low height onto the table with a CLASH. The thought echoed through his body and caused him to drop a fragile plate. Luckily, it didn’t break but it did cause a few to rush in to check to make sure everyone was okay. A quick apology was all that was needed to cause the small crowd to disperse from the room. Nothing was broken so it was of no big importance to stay. Except for one thing.

‘I’m jumping to conclusions. They are busy, Himetsuru. Stop being so full of yourself. They will surely apologize after dinner like they always do for not being able to interact with me during the day. Like always I will playfully tease them that I didn’t even notice and be about my evening with telling them to make it up to me by walking with me to my room. Silly Himetsuru, you are letting your pride get to your head and seeing aruji in a negative light like a fool.’ He chided himself in his head as he finally finished setting the table, and the food began to be brought in for the whole citadel to eat together like usual. Normally, he would be seated and the saniwa would claim a seat next to him to talk over their meal.

That didn’t happen this time. Himetsuru took the seat he always did and awaited as the ocean of swords came into the hall, chatter and laughter filling the room as the seats were taken. Saniwa was not on his side. Instead they were at the total opposite side of the table at the head. It made sense, they were an all powerful sage that belonged at the highest positioned seat at the table.

So why did the simple act of sitting elsewhere fill his heart with some much loneliness?

The chatter of the whole citadel blends into nonsense conversation in Himetsuru’s ears. His hands move silently as he eats, no conversation to be had during dinner for once. If anyone notices his more sullen attitude, they fail to mention it directly to the host. Instead Himetsuru’s icy eyes linger on the food he is consuming. The food, for once, failing to have taste to the poor crane. His eyes, ever so slowly, linger to the saniwa at the head of the table. Their eyes are bright and their smiles blissful. Such gifts would be seated next to him and directed at him, but not today. His heart aches with each beat as they watch for too long and their eyes connect with the target of the entertainment. Saniwa realizes he is watching but no smile is directed his way. Instead, a hurried turn of their head and look away from him. 

He never knew you could stab someone without a sword. Well, that confirms they have been avoiding him on purpose. Not even daring to meet their eyes for a second longer and wishing to escape the single shared moment in time. He painfully pulled his eyes away from the person he used to spend his day to day with. A single final swallow of whatever food was left in his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what it was since it lacked any taste to him, and he lifted off his seat to leave. From his knowledge, no eyes followed his retreat. Why would they? This was not unusual for him to go back to his room so early to sleep. Typical Himetsuru. Yet, if they did, they would see a storm in his eyes. One that could tell so much: Hurt, Regret, Longing…

He was the villain of this story. He pushed them away and selfishly wanted them back. Would they come back? Would he have to cast his pride aside and beg? Could he even do that when he was so prideful? Perhaps this is the start of the day where he loses the person he didn’t know he needed most in his life. 

The walk back to his room was less of a person making their leisurely stroll to end the night and more of a lost phantom searching for the meaning of their journey. A heavy sigh shook their body as the door closed behind in his room. Their shoulders weak and his body slowly slumping into a fetal position to fall asleep in. His heavy eyes closed as his heart ache, hoping for sleep to ease the pain for the person he drove away. 

….

A figure sits in front of a mirror, their hair clean from a recent wash and still damp, with faint makeup on their complexion to enhance the features that already make them eye-catching. There sits the Saniwa of the citadel in a white robe. The lights around the mirror are almost blinding as the details of the background are blurred in their vision, too focused on their reflection. They can’t remember how they ended up seated in what they could only guess is a dressing room. Perhaps it doesn’t matter because the only thought is how stunning they currently learn. So absorbed that they only realize they are not alone when a fluffy, warm white towel falls upon their head and gently rubs out the excess water from their hair. 

Their hair is now dry and the towel is pulled away to reveal the princess sword himself, Himetsuru. He looks like he always does in the citadel, it seems like only they are dressed up for whatever is about to happen. Himetsuru doesn’t catch their eye in the mirror, focusing so closely on the top of their head. They don’t even notice that he has a brush in his hand as he smooths the clean locks and starts to style it to the dream look. A style they always dreamed of being able to wear in reality.

Dream.

“Himetsuru,” Their voice rings out in the silence. Surprising even themselves that they are capable of talking. “Did you enter my dream?”

A teasing smile creases his features as his eyes finally look up and meet theirs. Only for their gentle hands to go back to the task in hand. Although he is normally a sword that refuses to touch anyone, it seems as if he is in his element at this moment. Focusing purely on the subject before them to fulfill their desired look. The smile on his face fades every so slightly to take on a more soft and compassionate expression. 

“Sometimes I hate your mind for being so quick-witted. Can’t even have my own fun.” A playful pout that holds no merit within it. As he finishes with their hair, his hand softly grasps their’s and leads them away from the mirror. 

It is only then that the scene before them materializes. Sure enough, it is a dressing room. A rather empty dressing room, but it would do the job in reality. Inside is a rack full of an assortment of outfits of all different colors and a two seater couch. Himetsuru wastes no time to start going through the clothes. Everytime pulling out an outfit with a judgemental look, only to decide it does not fit his image and throw it over his shoulder to move onto the next. Somehow they always disappear before hitting the floor behind him. Some outfits he holds up to the saniwa, only to decide it’s not what he is looking for and drop it right then and there. Never being satisfied. Perhaps he will never be satisfied with the options given to him. Or maybe, he is trying to keep his hands busy as he gathers courage to speak again.

“I was too nervous to speak to you in person so I chose dream you. I’m not even sure you will remember this when you wake up but that is my own punishment for being so weak and childish.” 

They wanted to speak up and refute his words, but the look in his eyes told them best to let him say his peace. The storm in his icebound eyes was one of pain and wishing to say his peace before he lost all courage he had left. They didn’t want to forget his words or his expression when they awoke, so they stayed silent and watched him tediously check the fabric before him, and slowly looked back at their face. 

“You were avoiding me today, yes? I am not here to pick a fight and yell at you. I am childish but I know I have no place to do that here. If you truly wish, you could kick me out of your dreams at any moment.”

They didn’t want to kick them out. They never wanted to kick them out. 

“I am here… To apologize.” A pitiful smile appeared, one that was the last barrier before tears. “I pushed you away constantly because I was overconfident. I thought you would never leave my side and treated you not as well as I should have. I am sorry, aruji. You avoiding me today, even just one day, broke my heart. The ego I enveloped myself in, crumbled. I realized how important it is that you are by my side. I am not here to beg you to come back to my side but to finally be honest with you. The man you see in your everyday life is a weak-willed, prideful child that wishes for someone to chase after his beauty.”

His body lingered over theirs and the weight of the world seemed to crash upon him as his body began to slump, his mouth so close to their ear. 

“Aruji, I am asking an immature favor from you. You needn’t agree to it but we don’t have much time left together in this dream realm.” His face touched theirs ever so slightly, soft like a feather. Their next words came out as a whisper as the scene around them began to disappear. “Please chase after me again. This time I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

And with that the sword, known as Himetsuru Ichimonji, was gone.

…..

The sun beats down on the green summer grass. The citadel is silent with sleep. The only sound that resounded through the early morning palace was a single sliding door opening and fast footsteps padding on the wooden flooring. The saniwa raced down to the usual spot where Himetsuru always drank his afternoon tea. They didn’t know why they felt the need to race there so early in the morning when the princess sword would surely be sleeping in on such a day but that dream stayed with them. They needed to be there as soon as he awoke to finally speak back to him on what he said.

As they turned the corner, they were greeted with that very sword, sitting in the sun as it gave his silver hair a golden halo. A tea cup sat in his hands and another one on the tray where Saniwa would normally sit. Heavy breaths were the only signal to their appearance as Himetsuru turned towards it. A friendly smile and a quirk of his eyebrow.

“You are up early, Aruji. Are you feeling up to having some tea with me?”

“I remember. I never hated you… I just didn’t want you to hate me for my constant persistence to be around you.” The second half of their words were strained from the running and the embarrassment of the statement. Himetsuru didn’t seem to mind, hearing them just fine and encouraging them to come sit beside him.

As they took their seat and picked up the cup with some fragrant tea, a soft hand touched their cheek. Their head sprung up to look at the origin of where such a soft touch came from. A sweet, heavenly smile greeted them as they looked at him in awe. 

“I could never hate an adoring fan.”