little lion man

at first, yoshimori was simply blank, frozen in shock   &   mouth slightly ajar. then, confusion bled onto his expression, brows inching inward   &   mouth closing in response. it was even faster that embarrassment flooded his every vein; face turning a beet red, unable to look anywhere near sen’s face,   &   hand flinging up to cover his mouth. if he pressed into it any harder, he might tear his jaw off!  to top it all off, a long moment of silence interweaved betwixt each stage,   &   long after the awkwardness settled in did it remain. even if he knew what to say, god knows he wouldn’t be able to get it out coherently.

after quite possibly the longest three minutes of the kekkaishi’s life, he finds it in himself to say something,   ❛  ummm… erm…  ❜   or, at least not be completely silent… both his breath   &   voice are still shaky. he clears his throat, hoping it would help, albeit the attempt might as well have been in vain. hand loosens around his jaw slightly, words muffled as it does remain.   ❛  y-y’know…a pinky promise would’ve worked fine.  ❜   or a warning. as if to prove his point, yoshimori’s hand left his face,   &   carefully took hold of sen’s pinky with his own.

❛  but, uh…  ❜   another pause, free hand rose to rest on the back of his neck, digits playing with his raven strands. his next confession is rushed   &   even quieter than before:   ❛  that…that was nice, too.  ❜   if not a little…haphazard.   ❛  maybe there could be a… a, y’know, a better one.  ❜   he regrets that suggestion the second it leaves his mouth, blush deepening, body stiffening,   &   nails digging into the skin on the nape of his neck, hair wrapped around his fingers; bracing himself for a long, thin claw sticking itself in his temple.

the growing silence intensified the on-going internal panic as he awaited the other’s reaction -- and seeing that both boys had exploded with embarrassment, sen jerked away to put his head in his hands, utterly mortified at the situation. the tips of his ears were a bright pink and his thoughts were racing. oh gods, why did I do that? he hated it, I think I hated that, I don’t think I can ever talk to him again -- 

his figure stiffened when yoshimori finally cleared his throat. peeking out from the safety of his hands clasped over his face, sen watched the other reach over to link their pinkies together. sen at last lowers his hands to allow comfortable pinky holding, but as the kekkaishi continues his thoughts, he began to regret ever revealing his blushing face to the world. he almost wished for the silence to return. at the prospect of a better kiss  -- the words rang in his ears, he hadn’t decided if he wanted to indulge the request just yet -- cat slits looked up into the night sky as cringe turned to grimace and their link is broken so sen can anxiously run hands through his hair.

“yoshimori,” sen exasperated, also unable to really look the other in the eye, "please just tell me you hated that, you don’t have to sugar coat it -- I wasn’t thinking, I just moved -- ” rejection began to settle and sen leaned into finger-tenting hands as he struggled to maintain composure. 

❛· yeah… i guess that’s true.··❜· the reassurance helps, but only slightly. there’s still the occasion where they are needed,· ·&· ·knowing that makes him anxious for the other. fingers curl around sen’s clothing, grasping it a little tighter than before. as if he didn’t hold on, the half-majiri will slip through his fingers too.··❛· it’s just…—··❜· he doesn’t even bother finishing; yoshimori won’t be there to make sure he’s safe.· ·&· ·it’s not that he can’t take care of himself, he knows that’s not true· — —· but not knowing how he is will drive him insane. masamori definitely isn’t leaving before yoshimori can talk to him about this, about making sure he’ll be fine in his stead.

instinctually, the kekkaishi pauses when he gently clears his cheeks with his thumb, quickly turning red at the intimacy shown. has sen kagemiya ever touched him so gingerly before?··he’s so used to the only contact with him being a fingernail into his head, not this soft touch. with a sniffle, he brings his palm up to wipe away the last of his tears, a short nervous chuckle finding its way free.··❛· sorry— i think i’m feeling a little overwhelmed, still.··❜

there’s a brief moment of silence, of breathing, of yoshimori carefully taking hold of sen’s wrist· ·&· ·running his thumb over his palm. the next time he speaks, his voice has lowered in volume.··❛· can you promise me?··❜

as the legitimate heir moves to wipe away the last of the streaming liquid from his face, sen lowers his arms from their embrace to allow better movement. he neatly folding his hands in his lap as he patiently waited for the other sorted out his emotions, providing a reassuring nod when yoshimori explained.·there was a still a soft pink across his facial features from the mild embarrassment of the entire situation. it was beginning to get easier to forget about the ticking clock.

sen watched in a sort of daze as yoshimori took hold of his hand, causing his heart to beat hard against his chest -- he prayed the other wouldn’t be able to discern his faster pulse as they held hands. as distracting as it all was, the half majiri attempted to maintain his composure as he looked up through blonde eyelashes at the other’s request. he still wasn’t convinced of sen’s safety. as the number three man within the night troops, sazanami was more than capable of keeping the both of them out of harm’s way, even without being a regular combatant. how could he convince the other without completely exposing himself -- ?·

the idea wasn’t completely formulated in his head before sen acted on it, breaking their hand hold to curl his fists around yoshimori’s loose baking apron in one fast motion. he turned their bodies to face each other and a moment passes as they hold eye contact, a different question in each pair of eyes, before finally sealing the distance between with a clumsy kiss -- it was nothing more than pursed lips against yoshimori’s flinch in surprise, but sen broke away just as fast.·

❛ yeah, don’t have to tell me twice. ❜· ordinary. normal. the concept is so foreign to him, he can hardly wrap his mind around it.··❛· i don’t know, college doesn’t sound like it’s for me … but i’ll think on it. ❜· the idea of more school after missing so much of it makes his stomach turn. nothing’s ever easy, he supposes, even for normal people.··❛·y’know, it doesn’t feel right to call myself normal after all these years. ❜

all yoshimori has known since the second he was born has been the supernatural· ·&· ·otherworldly. he’s never hated the powers themselves··(·truthfully, he’s always enjoyed the kekkaishi abilities; maybe that’s why everything he’s done had to be a big spectacle every time —- subconsciously showing off·), although the job thrust upon him· ·&· ·the pressures he put on himself to keep everyone out of harm’s way often weighed on him so much that he’s surprised he never crumbled beneath them.··❛· it’s a wonder i never died, huh?··❜· minuscule laugh· ·&· ·an odd sense of nostalgia coated his words, recalling all the times he had ventured too close to leaving the realm of the living. he would say something along the lines of· “how am i still alive?”, but he knows that it was his desire to not see anyone in pain that kept him going as long as it has· ·&· ·made every single one of his decisions.

gaze once again settles on the houin that still so boldly marked him as a legitimate successor, dreading the moment it’ll fade away. the kekkaishi once despised it· ·&· ·everything it stood for. funny, then, how he’s already missing it before it’s even gone. it’s then that he’s pulled into the familiar embrace, leaning into it,· ·&· ·allowing his hand to relax against the other’s leg. the praise surprised him, he was sure the sweet would obviously taste like something was off, but it still rose a smile out of him…· until he was told to stop pretending. he thought about denying it, but ultimately decided against it.··❛ i just don’t want you to worry about me.·❜· he’s simply not someone worth worrying over, especially so when it’s someone as preoccupied as everyone around him. nose burns with the feeling that those tears were going to spill soon, albeit he still chokes them back.··❛··—&· that goes double for you, y’know. i care about you, too. ❜

fingers tap on sen’s knee, as if he didn’t have his attention before now.··❛· promise me you’ll be safe· ·&· ·try not to get hurt. ❜· it’s the thought of him in pain or, god forbid, worse· ·&· ·that yoshimori wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it that pushes him over the edge· ·&· ·gets him to finally silently cry, dipping his head down but making no effort to stop them.··❛· —-thank you, sen. ❜

“ah..” it was no secret the kekkaishi was prone to crying -- and though this was not the first time handling it, it didn’t make it any less awkward for the blonde. he was not careful enough to sensitively comfort others, but the weighing guilt on his shoulders for causing tears pushed him to try harder than usual. his hand slid down to rest on yoshimori’s shoulders, giving a squeeze while still holding the pair close. a soft blush spread across his cheeks and to the tips of his own ears, embarrassed over the sheer intimacy of being so close to the crying boy.·“I’ll be fine out there,” he reassured half-heartedly.·“intelligence isn’t always on the battlefield, anyway.”·

still, he was touched to be an object of yoshimori’s concern, and he could only look upon the other with a sad sort of affection. with his free hand, sen wiped away the tears streaming from his eyes with gentle strokes of his thumb.

concealed aura or not, sen’s presence hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed. because of the comatose state yoshimori had gone into,· ·&· ·how close that left him to touching death once more, shiguma had been more active. merely as a way of connection to this realm, not necessarily regulating any power this time around.· ( after all, what power is there to regulate when your partner is dead to the world? )·· shiguma had manifested in his cube state, laying dormant next to yoshimori’s head until he awoke.

when he did come to, shiguma hadn’t told yoshimori of sen entering, but he did get the feeling that someone had messed with him. although, he just brushed it off as side-effects of being out for so long, family members coming· ·&· ·going to check on him, anything that wasn’t the truth.

feeling as though he was being stared at, regret begins its welling in his chest, brown hues close,· ·&· ·he waves his hand through the air, as if trying to brush away what he had just said. that wasn’t like him, he’s not sure what came over him.

❛ nah, ❜· a ghost of a smile tries to come through· ·&· ·he forces a chuckle, albeit it’s short-lived· ·&· ·hollow-sounding,··❛ i’ve gone this long skipping, i’ll still send a shikigami. can’t break tradition now. ❜· old habits die hard,· ·&· ·all that, right?· even if it would give him something to do, it’s a gamble if he’d be able to focus at all. he’s always wondered how tokine ever managed.

❛ right… ❜· that permanent melancholy had returned,· ·&· ·it’s palpable, now.· ·❛·· &· ·what are the chances they’ll send you around here anymore?· ❜· or anyone, for that matter. with karasumori being sealed, it needs no more protection after five hundred years. perhaps someone to check in every now· ·&· ·again, but surely that will lessen over time.

had he been feeling like his normal self, the brief mention of masamori would have given a tinge of annoyance, but it doesn’t even do that. instead, it actually offers an idea.··❛·maybe… ❜· gaze flicks up· ·&· ·away from sen,· ·&· ·that burning on his cheeks is just from holding back tears.· ❛ maybe you could come with my brother when he visits, or something. ❜

another breath· ·&· ·gentle smile,· ·&· ·it feels like it’s all he can muster,· ·❛·as long as you two try. or else i’ll be forced to track you guys down. ❜

eyes move between sen· ·&· ·the remainder of the cake. he hadn’t even asked his thoughts yet, has he?· on the other hand, maybe he doesn’t want to know. he trades another nudge of elbows with the cat majiri before speaking,··❛ hey, what’d you think of the cake, anyway? ❜

“you’re an ordinary guy now, yoshimori,” he gently reminded the other as his gaze casted downwards to fidgeting fingers. more unwanted news. direct bluntness may not spare his heart, but it was the only way to be honest. a sort of bittersweetness colored the blonde’s tone as he quietly continued,·“you don’t have to worry about ayakashi and land gods and the fate of the world anymore. you can -- be anything you want, do whatever, go wherever. the least you can do is keep up with schoolwork... I’m sure tokine will go off to college, so you should play your cards right and follow her.”·

the mention of tokine softened his expression. although it seemed like he was always at war with that amazon of a girl, sen genuinely enjoyed her company whether it was across the dinner table or across the battlefield. however... the way yoshimori wore his heart on his sleeve provided all the reason to keep her at arm’s length most of the time. it could be mildly painful to witness their close bond and worse when the other sought love advice from him. there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she would fill the remainder absences in yoshimori’s heart. he had to remember that would be a good thing.·

the other’s attempt to redirect the conversation to cake was almost laughable, providing further example of how visibly emotional he could be. always trying to be the hero... even when he didn’t have to be.

groaning with mild frustration, the half majiri pulled the other into a familiar side embrace, affectionately placing his hand atop yoshimori’s head and bringing their faces close together.·“you made it after all. of course it’s fine. its delicious, actually,” came the exasperated answer.·“you don’t have to do that, y’know -- pretend you’re fine when you’re not. I know you well enough to know when you’re kidding yourself.”·

despite the original intention of the sweet being only for sen, sharing it with him had caused a warm feeling to bloom within, easing any negativities for now. he could almost forget how he felt prior to coming out here. it was nice, yet there was still a sense of longing· ·&· ·sadness, knowing it was going to be the last for awhile.

the kekkaishi doesn’t speak as the other finds his words, merely offers silence· ·&· ·watching his hands as each knuckle pops one by one. when he does eventually speak, there’s hesitation on his side as well. a heavy sigh· ·&· ·a quiet,· ❛ yeah… ❜· is all he gives at first. while he’s trying to figure out how exactly to respond, his gaze is still stuck to sen’s hands.· ❛ it’s okay, kagemiya. ❜· another pause.

❛ me too, i think. i just haven’t felt…right. ❜· as if he’s just going through the motions, trying to stop thinking about it all, trying to go back to how things were before karasumori was sealed, before he even had the idea in the first place. it obviously hasn’t worked; he’s felt wrong· ·&· ·misplaced in his own skin. his pretending is probably crystal clear to everyone around him. hands shift to grasp the opposite’s arm, hugging himself.· ❛ crowds make me— ❜· yoshimori can’t even finish it, unsure of how to end it. uneasy?· feel worse?· { like everyone can see all his flaws· ·&· ·failures· ·&· ·know that’s all he’s been good for. }· teeth grit,· ·&· ·he shakes his head,· ·&· ·he condemns that thought to its oblivion· – –· a· “never mind”· without actually saying it.

❛ yeah, i’m sad to see you go, for sure. rooftop’ll be a lot emptier without you around. ❜· a sad smile plays at his expression· ·&· ·he can feel tears starting to brim at his eyes. definitely just an overload of feelings, nothing else.· ❛ y’sure you can’t find a way to visit sometime?·❜

the day karasumori had become more or less a blur now, with everything that had transpired, but anxious worry over yoshimori (and by extent, miss short skirt) had yet to cease. seeing yoshimori’s comatose state was enough to send him into a spiral. he could only watch as the kekkaishi was carried off elsewhere. later on, the news of the sumimura woman’s disappearance explained everything; the chief had ordered that no one was to disturb the sumimuras, even after yoshimori came to.·

however, during the second night of yoshimori’s slumber, sen couldn’t help it -- he had quietly entered the other’s room by window with a concealed aura, but the sight of his battered friend had broken all concentration. he could only brush stray hairs out of his face and adjust the pillows under his head. the half majiri had left feeling more helpless than ever.·since then, the pair had only exchanged short greetings in passing. shu and sen had “transferred” out of the school long before and had been kept relatively busy with clean-up duty, cooking duty, then preparations-to-leave duty.·

blonde eyebrows slightly lift in surprise that the kekkaishi would open up about it, brief as it was, but sen took it as a sign of recovery in progress. this must have been the closest he’s gotten to understanding him. he could only leave the rest to tokine ... the thought squeezed his heart.·

“ah,” the threat of tears stirred his own well of emotions, but sen mostly felt uncomfortable panic. he was not the type of person that could sensitively handle other breakdowns, just his own. he scoots closer, nudging their elbows again as he musters a joke,·“hey, it’ll be okay -- if anything you’ll have to go to class now.”·

❛ it was just a joke, it was too easy, ❜· he gives a small chuckle that’s less out of finding any more humor· ·&· ·more out of awkwardness, gently nudging his elbow into sen’s for emphasis.· ·{ you act like it’s your first encounter with sarcasm. }· ·❛ i don’t actually think that, y’know. i think i’ve known you long enough to pick up on your neat-freakiness. ❜· it’s more than a little hard to miss, after all. although, how easy is it to be the·“cleanest” person in the night troops?· masamori was always tidier than him,· ·&· ·hatori seems like she’s always organized. but, with all the kids that don’t know any better,· ·&· ·all the members, it just looks like it wouldn’t be hard for things to get out of hand.

yoshimori finishes his slice, wipes any crumbs from the corners of his mouth, then shifts his arm to allow his chin to sit in the palm of his hand. “graciously cut his slice,” he says. he never even asked if he wanted any!· ❛ the cake was just for you. something to take back with you. i didn’t need a slice. ❜· ·&· ·certainly not one as big as the one he gave.

watching him sit up, return the leftovers of an already small piece,· ·&· ·do so much as to turn away from him, it’s not long before guilt starts its gnawing at him.· ·( admittedly, he’d rather feel guilt over this than feeling like he had failed both his family at home· ·&· ·his mother. this is much more bearable· ·&· ·not so crushing· ·&· ·suffocating. )· ·oh, man, yoshimori did it now. nice going. last hours spent with him,· ·&· ·he screws it up. does he seriously not believe him?··❛ i don’t forget about you. ❜· repeated, more stern· ·&· ·serious this time.··❛ do i need to remind you all the times i’ve come running to save you? ❜· he could’ve left him in kokubourou if he wanted, but that thought was never even considered. or the times he had almost been torn from musou, or distracted by sen being in his own danger. gaze shifts to the pond just in front of them, watching the koi underwater.··❛ figured i wouldn’t have to say anything to you of all people. ❜· it’s more of a mutter than spoken directly to him. who can say, maybe he’ll come chasing after him a month or so after they leave out of sheer boredom. he won’t even let masamori know he’s coming, either!

that response felt a tad forced· ·&· ·not so enthusiastic.··❛ don’t worry, i’ll send you more than just baking updates. maybe i’ll send you my architecture attempts. ❜· that is, if they’re good enough to show off. the last comment finally got him to snap his eyes back to sen,··❛ weird?!· the hell’s that supposed to mean!?· i should be saying that to you, god knows what you all do at headquarters. ❜

the clarification behind the cake causes him to stiffen with quiet realization.·the ticking clock was evident to both of them. to waste time acting out now just to be regret it all later... the misplaced and mistaken emotions subside at the kind gesture, and sen finally relaxes, stealing a glance at the other as their elbows connect.·

“alright, alright..” he breathes, turning to mirror the kekkaishi. there’s hesitation as he considers his words and the pause is filled with the quiet sound of sen’s slow knucklecracking. yoshimori’s underhand comment does not go unnoticed. under normal circumstances would’ve set the half-majiri into an anxious spiral at the prospect of his skills coming to light, but he is too busy recalling previous rescue attempts with a visible wince.·by the fifth knuckle pop, he finds the words.·“I get it.”·

“Look,” his throat threatens to close up, but he starts again.·“I’m sorry, I’m just -- tense, from being surrounded by everyone earlier. you know how shu talks while he’s chewing; the guy never shuts up sometimes.”·

a hum· ·&· ·a shrug is made in initial response,··❛ nah, wasn’t hungry. besides, i was busy. ❜· index points toward the dessert, indicating what exactly he was busy on.··❛ i live here, anyway,· ·&· ·you’re a guest, so it’s fine. i’ll find something to eat later. ❜· his appetite has been considerably lower, going through the day with one meal or getting by on snacks. he wonders how much of the story had reached sen’s ears. yoshimori has spilled some of it, of course· —· he couldn’t hide everything from him even if he wanted to· —· but there were definitely points he left out, the finer details or the parts that hurt the most.··❛ consider it one last thank you gift. ❜· a gentle smile plays as he watches the other out of the corner of his eyes.

a pang of instinctual panic hits when the claw is extended, but when he uses it to simply cut the cake, it recedes as quickly as it came.··❛ i hope those nails of yours are clean, kagemiya, ❜··that one was too hard to resist, spoken as he picks up his own larger slice for himself· ·&· ·takes a bite, obviously less careful than his friend.··❛ i guess this can make up for my lack of dinner. ❜· not the healthiest replacement, but since when has he been healthy?

❛ c’mon, you say that like i want you gone… ❜· he doesn’t, not ever,· ·&· ·the reality that’s approaching quicker than he wants surely isn’t helping.··❛· ‘by the time i notice’?!· you make it sound like i forget about you! ❜· he so desperately tries to hide the offense in his voice with more teasing, but he’s afraid the attempt was unsuccessful.

the kekkaishi can’t help but be reminded of his last moments with his mother; her speaking as if she’s better off gone· ·&· ·they’re already used to her being away. that doesn’t make things any easier. he always dreamed of her returning· ·(· ·&· ·still does, of convincing her to let him take her place ),· ·&· ·knowing that’s all they are now hurts more than it’s imaginable.

❛··—there’s text, too. i’ll just have to blow your phone up until you respond!· how d’ya like that? ❜· a loose smirk, it won’t take much to make it fall. maybe they’re too far gone to go back to normal, yet no harm in trying.

the final bite of the pastry was en route to his mouth when yoshimori’s comment interrupted its pathway, causing sen to scoff in equal offense and partial insecurity. the fingers of his freehand flex, revealing the complete set of sturdy claws in question. while the other goes on about dinner -- yadda yadda yadda, no appetite to eat lately, sen is the guest anyway, all thinly veiled excuses to poor health that sen had anticipated beforehand -- he is busy rotating his wrist in review of the condition of his claws.·“I am literally the cleanest person in the night troops,” he defensively muttered, retracting the claws by curling fingers into fist. suddenly, friendly banter seemed out of the question. his mood was souring by the minute.·“I can’t believe you would think otherwise. and after I graciously cut your slice, too!”··

sitting up, sen returns the remainder of his uneaten half back on the plate. it was like a switch had flipped and something a step below annoyance was blooming across his chest. all of a sudden, the full inbox joke was no longer funny. he set his jaw firmly together into a pouty sort of frown to keep himself from saying what he was feeling -- he wasn’t buying a single word. yeah, right! this was the same yoshimori that would run off from him to chase after tokine at any chance he got, the same one that dipped on him to coddle hiura. karasumori may have been sealed away, but the kekkaishi warrior was still abiding by his little hero act that had always pissed him off.·

but deep down, sen could feel the storm of emotions cloud over his judgement and genuine sadness to leave·karasumori. yoshimori was officially a regular kid, free to pursue whatever sugary dream he wanted. meanwhile, sen was bound to night troops... meaning their paths were not likely to cross again for the foreseeable future. he could’ve envied yoshimori if he didn’t feel such inexplicable anguish over the idea of being cast aside for someone else.·it must be the teenage hormones causing him to feel so dramatic.

in any other circumstance, yoshimori would hate how crowded his house gets with his brother around; so even just a quarter of the night troops means you can barely get anywhere without bumping into at least five people. perhaps part of him still did loathe it, yet after the ordeal he had been through   &   the fresh grief dragging him down, it exhausted him even further. but, the sheer amount of noise   &   people did help to distract him, he supposes, if only a little. the only places not filled wall-to-ceiling being his room   &   the kitchen, the latter of which he had spent the last couple hours in alone.

peace   &   quiet,   &   of course his sweets. he carefully topped his newest creation with one final cherry, small smile breaking through the melancholy that’s been permanent since his return. pride didn’t wash over him like it normally would,   &   this one is clearly lacking something  (  passion, most likely, but maybe he’ll say he was short on sugar, or something, if anyone asked  ). although this one was just meant to keep his mind   &   hands busy, so he wouldn’t beat himself up too much over it. a breath he had been holding is finally released   &   regret returned as he removed the cloth from his head, gaze landing on the houin in his palm. even in all his current sorrow, yoshimori found a small glimmer of positivity in the fact that it still remained.   {  it means mom is still here   &   connected to us…  }

pulling himself from his thoughts, he took hold of the plate the dessert rests on   &   stopped to brace himself before sliding open the door. breathe in   &   breathe out. when he opened the door, he was instantly met with the loud chatter   &   dishes clinging from both his immediate family   &,   for lack of a better term, his extended family. holding the sweet above his head   &   carefully stepping around people, he’s still not sure how he made it all the way to the courtyard without dropping it, but he thanked whichever god that blessed him for it.

opening the courtyard door, his eyes all too easily found the back of the head of a familiar blond. just who he was looking for.  ❛ actually, this one is supposed to be a little hard. just came out of the fridge   &   finished it a bit ago. ❜  making strides to meet the half-majiri, yoshimori sits himself   &   sets the dessert on the grass in front of them.  ❛ i just got out here, trying to send me away, already?  this is my house, y’know. i should be the one sendin’ you out, sen. ❜  he tries to tease, but it feels off, even to him.

your dessert is going to harden ... it takes all his willpower to resist the visible cringe attempting to stretch across his face. all that time eating and baking cake together was starting to show, but it all felt like lifetime ago. yoshimori had been acting differently since sealing karasumori -- everyone knew this, had silently agreed to let him be, but sen was unsure if he could commit to this. a moment of quiet falls over the pair as the blonde took his place on the other side of the cake. “you could’ve at least eaten dinner with us before presenting a cavity on a silver platter to me.”

feline eyes flash up to meet the other’s gaze, but when unable to do so, a long claw is extended. this is normally a sign of in-coming aggression, but tonight sen carefully cuts a few slices out of the pastry for them. a thin piece for himself and a larger slice according to yoshimori’s preferences. there are no plates, so all they can do is cup the bread in their hands; he is careful to prevent crumbs from falling onto his good robe. 

“oh, don’t you worry, I’ll be outta here before you know it,” he shoots back, although his heart clearly wasn’t in the right place for banter. stretching out to lean against a single elbow propping him up, the cat majiri perfectly mimics the feline demons that he takes after. cat slits flick upwards through his eyelashes to look at yoshimori. “and by the time you notice, my cell-phone inbox will be too full for you to leave a message.”

a cool summer breeze sways through sen’s figure as he stepped into the night to escape from the rowdy dinner taking place behind him. although most of the night troops had returned to headquarters earlier that day, the sumimura compound was still crowded for dinner. the sound of laughter and dishes clinking together rang clearly through his ears as he wandered towards the small pond at the center of the courtyard. squatting, sen picks up a smooth stone and turned it over many times in his palm, considering the size and shape, before making the decision to skip it across the pond’s surface. it skipped three times.

sen grins with satisfaction at himself in the pond’s reflection, but the sight of himself deflates his ego. if only skipping rocks counted for something. with a scowl, he drops another hefty rock into his reflection to disperse the image. he is almost sorry to disturb the peaceful koi fish residing underwater. 

the restlessness that had moved him out of the dining room returned. straightening, sen huffed out a short sigh as he curled and uncurled his fists. there were exactly two days left at karasumori; roughly 45 hours, but who was counting? the prospect of moving on from the past year made his heart feel heavy in his chest but sen couldn’t assess the reason why. 

his intense concentration is immediately broken at the sound of the door sliding open and shut and the familiar presence entering the courtyard. although he was no longer bound to the land as its guardian, the authority in his presence did not go away. feeling eyes on his back, sen remained silent in an effort to appear causal.