❝ 貧困: poverty. ❵

KASHUU KIYOMITSU.

       from: Touken Ranbu.

kashuu kiyomitsu was, originally, one of the swords owned by the captain of the first division of the shinsengumi, okita souji. hard to use, he was forged at the kaga prefecture, one of the most poor parts of feudal japan, where most people had very questionable jobs ( they weren’t even allowed to be farms for being considered too dirty ). eventually, he found his way at the hands of okita souji, who was one of the only masters he had that could unleash his full potential.

yet, however, his fate ended far too soon. at the famous incident of ikedaya inn, kashuu kiyomitsu’s tip was broken beyond repair. despite all of okita’s attempts at fixing his blade, he was irreparable. and so, kashuu was abandoned.

Seeing Kashuu’s eyes spill over makes Horikawa’s heart clench. He leans in, pressing chaste kisses to the other sword’s face and eyes before drawing him into a tight, comforting embrace. His arms loop around the uchi’s waist, bringing him close so they can lean their heads against one another.

“They’re not perfect, either,” he says quietly. “– But even if they were, they aren’t the one I love. That’s you; it’s always going to be you.” His cheek nuzzles against Kashuu’s hair, sliding across the silken strands in an affectionate gesture. “… I’m a forgery,” he adds after a moment. “Did you know that?” There’s no trace of shame in his voice. “I don’t think it matters, though… Because I’m still Horikawa Kunihiro. The Kunihiro swords are my brothers, and Hijikata-san chose me.” He rubs Kashuu’s back, tracing circles between the other sword’s shoulders blades. “Even when we were swords without bodies, I loved being around you. Having you back… I don’t care what you look like. I’m just glad that we can hold each other like this.”

       None of them were perfect, the swords of the Shinsengumi. Sure, maybe Izuminokami Kanesada was their only outcast, in a way. But when your masters were all farmers and not even of samurai blood, they wouldn’t be able to afford swords better than a forgery, like Horikawa Kunihiro and Nagasone Kotetsu, or swords that many didn’t want to use because they were too hard to handle, like Kashuu Kiyomitsu and Yamatonokami Yasusada.

       None of them were perfect, and with the wakizashi’s words, it calms Kashuu’s heart. Even then, he was loved. Loved more than anything, more than anyone. Loved by someone who had always thought him to be precious since the very beginning.

       ❝ You’re... Horikawa’s friend, right? ❞ Huge. Even more than Iwatooshi, not in height but in... muscles. That was a bit too terrifying, for a sword who was so much shorter and a lot less strong. But if he was Horikawa’s friend, and Kashuu had agreed with him coming to live with them, it should be fine. That mansion was far too big for only the two of them and several cats.

Kashuu ends up going through with it, and Horikawa can’t say he’s surprised by what he sees. Part of him always knew that something had to be underneath that scarf… Still, he can’t focus on the wrenching in his gut for too long, not while his partner is in such obvious distress. He avoids staring as best he can, instead reaching out to cup Kashuu’s face gently between his calloused hands.

“That’s not true,” he insists, his thumb moving to smooth over the skin of Kashuu’s cheekbone. “I don’t care about anything like that, Kashuu. I care about you.”  The vibrancy of his gaze is fixed completely on Kashuu’s face, looking him directly in the eye. “You’ll always be beautiful to me. Okay? I promise, this doesn’t change anything.”

       Horikawa’s actions were enough to make Kashuu start tearing up, and soon crying without being able to hold back anymore. It felt good to be accepted, and to be loved. It felt good not to be abandoned for his faults, not to be treated inadequately, not to be forgotten because he wasn’t good enough. For Horikawa, he knew he would always be. Just like Yasusada, too, gave him the support he needed, Horikawa was another pillar.

Horikawa looks up from cradling one of the mansion’s resident kittens, his already-soft expression turning slack and affectionate. Naturally he can tell that Kashuu is concerned about something, so there’s the slightest hint of worry within his gaze; he sets the kitten down, urging it to toddle off with its siblings, and turns to the other sword to offer his full attention.

“I have wondered,” he admits, “but I never wanted to ask.” After a beat, he decides to offer Kashuu a way out of the situation. “If it makes you upset, though… I don’t need to know. Only if you’re comfortable, okay?”

       This is stupid, the uchi thinks to himself as the opportunity to show his boyfriend one of his biggest insecurities comes to light. You are the one who mentioned it, he reminds himself, but it doesn’t make the sword any less nervous. He fidgets around a bit, pays attention elsewhere so he won’t remember Horikawa’s full attention was on him.

       Really, he could have made it a bit less suffocating.

       ❝ ... Hey. ❞ Kashuu had been thinking about it for a while; for as long as he remembers, truly. He knows well some of the swords at the Citadel knew about what laid under his scarf, why he wore his scarf around all the time, and tried his best never to bathe with another sword that wasn’t Yasusada.

⊱ “Kiyomitsu?”

It was entirely by chance he happened on the uchi–as is any encounter he’d potentially have in this city, for sure, and it wasn’t like he didn’t expect there to be other swords wandering around this place.

It was far too expansive for that to be impossible.

But he still wears a brief look of surprise on his features, one that dissolves after a minute into a sort of grin as a hand rests on his hips, giving the other a quick once-over to ensure that everything seemed alright.

“You came first again, huh?” Izumi remarks, though the realization then sets in that if Kashuu had gotten here first, he could’ve been here for any amount of time. Maybe?

“At least that means you’re loved then, right? That’s not the point, though–” weight shifts from foot to foot as he gnaws briefly on his tongue in thought, “–if you got here first, then you’ve got to know more, don’t you? Are you alone?”

He can’t imagine that aruji and Kashuu were the only two here, though really it was entirely possible. These ‘scientist’ people could apparently pick and choose whatever and whomever they wanted; for all Izumi knew they decided they didn’t want any other swords on their hands.

( whether that was good or bad, he couldn’t decide just yet. )

@hinkontana

       He doesn’t expect to hear such a familiar voice after so long; but it goes almost unsurprising, truly. It gives Kashuu a sense of warmth as well as a sharp pain in his chest, because he remembers Horikawa Kunihiro crying and being so tired of how everyone always came and left and he stayed.

       And they stayed.

       Yet it’s good, at the same time. To see a familiar face, to know they’re well instead of only having each other. It’s torture, but it also gives the uchigatana a reason to keep moving forward, to keep waiting day after day for a sign of those he cared for so much. It feels like far too long since he has seen Izuminokami, after all.

       ❝ I don’t know about being loved in this case, ❞ Not when he was so far from his Aruji, hoping everyday they are safe and sound -- and hoping everyday they miss him, even though he knows painfully well time doesn’t work the same way back in their world. ❝ Especially since I wasn’t the first to arrive, you know. But since it seems I was the first danshi you’ve met here, then maybe you love me too much? ❞ It’s a tease, especially considering there were far too little of them in this city. What were the odds?

It is painful. For a moment he feels like he’s drowning, gazing up at a dark sea where next to no light filters through the bruising, thick salt – then Kashuu wraps those warm arms around him, and he sags into the embrace, his head coming to rest against the familiar scent that he’s come to love so much. He nuzzles his cheek against the soft material of Kashuu’s clothing, relishing in the contact between them as if he hasn’t felt this much comfort in ages.

“I waited for so long to see you again,” he says quietly, his eyes sliding shut as he relaxes against the other sword. “I thought about you every day… Even while I was fading away, I still thought about you, and all of the others. It was the only thing that kept me from breaking apart.” His lips press a meek kiss to the top of Kashuu’s head, just to assure himself that he’s really there. “I don’t want to lose you again. Everyone else comes and goes, but this time… I can’t let you leave. I’ll do anything.”

       No matter how embarrassed those words made him feel, Kashuu wouldn’t let go. He could not, nor he wanted to. Horikawa Kunihiro was soft, and it was a softness the uchigatana grew to love easily. His smell, the way he held his longtime friend, the way he kissed the top of his head and the way he easily made Kashuu melt. It was silly, wasn’t it? How Kashuu should be the one comforting his boyfriend, yet those words spoken to him reassured the sword and made him only cling closer to the other more and more. Even if he came to leave, even if he was only going back to the Citadel they belonged to, he didn’t want to leave Horikawa. He didn’t want to forget this.

Lying is what I do best, Horikawa is tempted to say – but he knows that self-deprecation won’t help him out of this rut, so he stays silent, contemplating the situation with a worn-out look on his face. After several beats of quiet, he raises his head just slightly, looking at Kashuu through bleary eyes.

“… Sometimes,” he begins hesitantly, “I wonder if this is all a really long dream that I’m having.” His gaze averts, as if he’s ashamed of himself. “They say you can’t feel pain in dreams, but I’m not so sure about that. I’ve felt it before… Maybe I’m feeling it now.” He turns his head aside, hiding his face within the safety of his arms and muffling his voice. “I’ve loved so many people, but they always leave… And I’ve never left. Not once. It’s almost been two years now.”

       It’s not something Kashuu can relate to, not to the same extent that Horikawa says it. He has seen people leave when he stayed, he has loved people and watched them abandon him, but the uchigatana can only wonder if it’s the same kind of pain he used to feel. The same kind of pain he’s still scared of feeling. And as much as Kashuu doesn’t like watching Horikawa drown in self-loath, what is there for him to say? When he had to spend years, decades, centuries all by himself with that sickish feeling of abandonment and uselessness down his throat without a single word of comfort.

       Maybe all there is to say is what Kashuu had hoped someone would tell him.

Horikawa lifts his head from his arms, reddened eyes fixing the plate with a blank stare. Normally he would be thrilled with Kashuu’s attempts at making a culinary masterpiece, but he finds himself unable to muster even the barest of smiles. He blinks, trying to clear the film of exhaustion from his eyes, and sets his chin back down against the desk.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice sounding unusually strained even to his own ears. “I’m fine.”

It’s an automatic response, and an obvious lie at that.

       It’s a bit infuriating, though he understands well what Horikawa must be feeling. Though Kashuu had time enough to get over his own situation, it was also somewhat more extreme. He doesn’t like seeing his boyfriend so unmotivated, with the lack of usual life he’s so used to seeing on him. But he also doesn’t like seeing Horikawa not doing anything about it. Not picking himself up. Almost like he, out of all people Kashuu knew, decided to give up.

       Only a fool wouldn’t know how empty Horikawa Kunihiro looked like. How much Yamanbagiri’s absence affected him. The mansion was gradually becoming emptier and emptier, and though it was Kashuu’s first time witnessing such thing en masse, for Horikawa, surely... ❝ You should eat something. I made you these. ❞ The uchigatana places a plate with a few apples shaped as rabbits, made by the boy himself. It was cute, truly, and maybe they could cheer the wakizashi up at least a little bit. ❝ How are you feeling? ❞

Man, someone was really frustrated with all this, huh. Tempting as it was to keep deliberately pushing buttons, Sasuke thought better of it. He’d had his fun, so he could answer a few little questions, right?

“Well, I wanted to let him break it to you himself, but if you really wanna know… partners would be a bit more accurate. Lovers, if you really need it spelled out.” A long story, really, and one he wasn’t going to start laying out in the street–this kid didn’t need all of the dirty details anyway. “Been…what, three or four years now? I’d say I know quite a bit–but sometimes a guy doesn’t like to linger too much on the past, either.”

That would have to suffice, for now. “As for Yasusada, I only know the blade version. Never been much to say outside of a fight.” He shrugged, there had been a few of those, too, but that could come up another day. “I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”

       Wh--

       ❝ Wait wait wait wait wait. ❞ He... didn’t hear it wrong, right? Nevermind the Yasusada bit ( it was to be expected, considering okita did have the blade with him and sasuke had mistaken him for his partner ), but everything else-- must be a lie, right? It had to be. That didn’t make sense, none of it. He was just messing with him, right? Right? Okita had never been one to dwell in anything related to romance, Kashuu remembers that well. While Hijikata Toshizou was known to have way too many lovers ( which directly affected izuminokami in a way, sadly ), Okita Souji was the very opposite. There had even been rumors about--

“I can think of a reason or two.” Namely (1) shits and (2) giggles. “But hey, maybe you’re right.” Sasuke waved a hand dismissively, it wasn’t as though he actually expected much here. At least this little bout of jealousy was cute, or something. “Maybe I imagined all that time spent together. Or maybe…” and he grinned at this thought, “he just wanted to get a chuckle out of us meeting like this,” his finger waved deliberately with each carefully pronounced syllable, “Ki-yo-mi-tsu.”

       ❝ It could be possible, which doesn’t make it any better. ❞ All it did was make Kashuu more frustrated, quite honestly, and the next time he saw Okita, he was going to get quite an earful from the uchigatana. How dare he not mention his cute sword to someone who was “pretty close” of him? Or maybe they weren’t at all-- maybe Sasuke was just messing with Kashuu.

       Which just made all of even more infuriating.

Well, at least one mistake was made abundantly clear right off the bat. Didn’t stop Sasuke from laughing while he retracted his hand. This was already better than he had hoped for.

“Well excuuuse me. He didn’t bother mentioning your name–and I’ve only ever seen him with Yasusada on his hip.” Well, as far as blades hanging around there went, anyway. Oh well, the sword’s indignation was satisfying regardless. “As for me… let’s just say he and I are pretty close.”

“Name’s Sarutobi Sasuke, at your service.”

       That was a terrible first impression, and if this guy ( sasuke or whatever! ) wanted to earn Kashuu’s sympath, then his attempts were very, very poor. If he knew Okita and Yasusada, and probably knew that one of his swords was there, shouldn’t he know Yamatonokami was another sword? Shouldn’t Okita have mentioned he was Kashuu Kiyomitsu instead?!