Protect History

[cont.] with fevered desperation. ❛ i~zu~mi ❤ c̤̤̭o͕͕̜͎̬̤m̼͎͜e̡ ̦̗͍p͕͉̰͙͡l͏̭̭ą̬̞͇̤̫y͎̰̰̣͈͍ ͓̥͇̰͘w̰̩̳̯͚͞i͙̲̫̣̼t͍̘̳̯̱ͅh̷̲͉͔̭̹̜̦ ̪̯̟̩̱̮m̀e̷ ❜

Admittedly, his prank in April had been on the crueler end of the scale. That said, Izuminokami hadn’t expected the older blade to react like he had; with genuine upset and anger. And when he’d tried pestering Mikazuki for an explanation, all he’d gotten was a huffy silence and filthy looks.

So Izuminokami had simply put the incident out of his mind, and by the time Halloween had come around, he’d completely forgotten about his antics in earlier in the year.

Which was probably reason why he ends up getting his just desserts on Halloween night.

Having returned to the villa after a day of work at the dojo (which he’d ended up cutting down upon Mikazuki and Kasen’s assistance), Izuminokami is so absorbed in tidying his living space that he doesn’t realize he has ‘company’ until a strange croaking noise reaches his ears. And even then he simply makes an annoyed face. Did a frog somehow get in? So uncool.

“Oi, you. There’s nothing in here for the likes of you, so–”

When he spins on his heel to confront his intruder, he expects to see a slimy, bug eyed frog that was going to get tossed straight back out the window. What he had not bargained for was some kind of creature crawling towards him, making noises that would terrify even Revisionists. 

So taken by surprise, Izuminokami can do nothing but let the creature press him towards the far wall, mouth agape and pupils dilated with terror. It’s not until the creature seizes him by his hakama do his knees collapse and send him to the ground, making it all to easy for the monster to continue its assault. And Izuminokami reacts the only way he can. By screaming.

“AAAARRRGGHHH! NO, NONONONOGETAWAAAAAY! LEAVE ME ALOONEEEE! KUNIHIROOOOOO!”

It’s fruitless to call for his assistant when the other isn’t even in Koi, but Izuminokami’s mind simply short-circuits with fear, causing him to shriek and wail pathetically. He reaches desperately for his namesake, but the uchigatana lies just out of his reach and any further attempts to grab it is ended when his wrist is pinned down.

❛ i~zu~mi ❤ c̤̤̭o͕͕̜͎̬̤m̼͎͜e̡ ̦̗͍p͕͉̰͙͡l͏̭̭ą̬̞͇̤̫y͎̰̰̣͈͍ ͓̥͇̰͘w̰̩̳̯͚͞i͙̲̫̣̼t͍̘̳̯̱ͅh̷̲͉͔̭̹̜̦ ̪̯̟̩̱̮m̀e̷ ❜

It’s only when the monster actually speaks does Izuminokami realize who is attacking him. And he instantly understands (albeit it 6 months too late) why Mikazuki had reacted so badly to his own prank. Adrenaline suddenly surges through the Uchigatana and he manages to shove the creature off him, infuriated tears in his eyes.

“MIKAZUKI, YOU BASTARD! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE WORST EVER, GET AWAY FROM ME!”

starter for @practicalandpretty | starter call

❥┊ Taking glances at the man that had a sword at his hip. Of course kamui was curious .. it reminded him a bit of Ryoma !! Was he some super cool samurai too ? Well he seemed to be really pretty too … a pretty and cool samurai ? Ah ! - It seems he got caught looking at him, oh how awkward … he sure was an awkward prince, he should say something …

❝ Um, are you a Samurai ? I have a brother who is a samurai and i’ve always been really curious about it ~ ❞

❥┊ Ah man, he was feel pretty bashful over this whole exchange, what if this guy found him annoying ? Oh, don’t think that Kamui … Ah ! He should introduce himself too, Man if Xander or Camilla would here they would probably cringe at his lack of manners when speaking to a stranger.

❝ Oh, I’m Kamui ! Sorry I’m a little flustered right now … ❞

Oho! It seemed his charming good looks had struck again. Not that Izuminokami could blame the young man before him; as both a human and a sword, he was known for his beauty, after all~

At least, that’s what the uchigatana told himself.

“Heh~ Funny you should ask that, my former own--! I...! I mean, my former master was a samurai. I’m just trying to follow in his footsteps and...”

‘Protect the world Hijikata-san fought so hard to preserve, even when the man had known it was fruitless.’

Clearing his throat, Izuminokami (thankfully) made no comment about Kamui’s flustered state, (not that he had a right to) instead focusing on the other’s mention of having a samurai for a brother.

“Is that so? Might I ask what house your brother and you serve? Is your Daimyo a powerful one?” he asked, head tilting in genuine curiosity and inwardly praying that the younger boy was not affiliated with any party that had been on the side of the Anti-Shogunate forces during the dying days of the Bafuku period. Mutsunokami was the only one he was willing to make an exception for.

“I’m Izuminokami Kanesada, the bel-! Hijikata Toshizo’s most loyal follower~!”

Judging everyone

         COMMENDATION WAS GROUNDLESS   *   vacant  ,  commonplace necessities taken advantage of  ;  a settlement of expressions excavated from desperation and obligation.   laughable it is for proprietor to surmise admiration equaled consent to periodic exploitation.   frankly  ,  it unnerved him  ::  renouncing and sacrificing  ,  rewarding and submitting like a  SUBSERVIENT MONGREL  impatient for its master’s directive.   physique lurches  ,  toppling over with the elegance of an oxygen-deprived fish  ;  his reaction is instantaneous  ,  elbowing whatever  (  WHOEVER   )  collided with him.

         ❝  SON OF A BITCH !!  ❞    (  oh  ,  this was fucking priceless.  )    ❝  back at'cha  ,  pretty boy  ;  let’s not pretend you didn’t just run into me.   YEAH ?  NO SHIT I SMELL LIKE BLOOD  ,  YOU KICKED ME IN THE FACE.  ❞    half-snarl  ,  half-sneer receives whatever whining and bitching the whelp has  ;  countenance twisted in unbalanced theatrics.     ❝  well  ,  actually  ,  it’s blood  ,  thanks entirely to you  ,  and pine.  ❞

Rearing back with his own snarl, Izuminokami grips his namesake in instinct; his entire body tensing, wound up like a coil ready to be sprung.

Wrong. Wrong. W R O N G. Everything about this is wrong. His spiritual powers are nowhere as strong as the others swords’, but he knows the scent of despair and death when he smelled it. He himself is a tool of death, simply given mortal form.

And every part of this human vessel is screaming that there was imminent danger lurking near him. That if he didn’t react and didn’t react quickly, there will be trouble.

“Ha?! Maybe I should have kicked you in the  h e a d !” he hisses back, trying to cover agitation with bravado and cockiness. “Maybe if you hadn’t be skulking around like a rat, I would have  s e e n  you.” Granted; it’s not quite yet dusk, so this reasoning only makes sense in the uchigatana’s head, not that’s it’s ever stopped Izuminokami from making such wild proclamations before now.

Grip on his sword now white-knuckled, his rational mind knows he should simply move on, find the others and speak of a plan of action. But he is young and impulsive, believing he is invincible. (After all, if getting run through and tossed into the sea by a Revisionist didn’t break him, there was little chance this mere human do it.) It is this foolishness that spurns him into taking a step closer.

Kasen allowed the silence if only to let his younger brother process that information. Though it only made him furrow his brow more in concern at what Izuminokami could be thinking that had him smacking himself and biting his lip.

Hosokawa Tadaoki was far from a perfect man, and perhaps Kasen had been hiding that fact a bit too much from others who did not know him out of fear they might think as one of his swords, Kasen had inherited his abhorrent temper as well as his love for the arts. Perhaps it was in poor judgement to. 

The uchigatana gave a reassuring smile.  ❝Of course. There is one lesson I have retained from Hosokawa-dono still, and that is beauty in even simplicity. I may be a sword of the arts, but I am still a sword. Nothing will gained, no inspiration will found if I live my life in fear, especially when I’m to learn and bloom.❞

❝ Come with me. Let us explore and get a feel for this places and it’s seasons. If it will reassure you, we’ll bring our swords along, Izuminokami. ❞

Obviously, he wasn’t as discreet as intended in his actions of trying to get a hold of himself, given the way Kasen was staring. Great.

“Mmmh...”

Not at all elegant, not even coherent, but Izuminokami had nothing really to say in response to his older brother’s word. Nothing useful, in any case. Nibbling again on (the less sore side of) his lip, he eventually managed to shoot Kasen a smile, nodding and gripping the hilt of his namesake.

“Alright, I suppose a second generation Kanesada has been around long enough to know how to look after himself~” he teased, suddenly seizing his brother’s hand.

If Kasen wanted to get a feel for the city, why not start at the place Izuminokami was proudest of? It was surely inelegant to simply pull his brother around like a toy, but Izuminokami figured Kasen would forgive him once the reached their destination.

And if he didn’t? ...Well, the older uchiganta would get over it. Eventually.

“Alright, Nosada! You asked for it! First stop, my dojo! Wait until you see how cool it is~”

Kasen knew very well Izuminokami wasn’t the brightest or the gentlest lantern in the sky, but he couldn’t completely fault the sword, having belonged to a ruffian in the Shisengumi, but while his own former master was bright, he wasn’t exactly gentle either. Izuminokami’s smile did put the older blade at ease, as well.

❝ One question suffices, Izuminokami, but it does appear I’ve ended up in this city for my kiwame training. The night before I left, after getting Aruji’s permission of course, I thought long and hard what my destintation should be. The obvious answer should have been to see Hosokawa-dono. But I’m already well aware of what kind of man he is, and I have already come to terms with it even without seeing his face again. Even if he did pointlessly stain my blade with blood countless times, my name a constant reminder of that, I still deeply respect his way of life outside of bloodshed. ❞  

  ❝ So I thought…. seeing him again would only make my journey fruitless. I would still remain the very same, because I would only receive knowledge I already have. So,❞  He closed his eyes.  ❝ While I was right in front of the machine so I wouldn’t have a chance to regret, I decided to leave it to fate to take me where I’m supposed to grow. If it led me to Hosokawa-dono then there was still more to learn, but it led me here. That in itself is quite poetic, don’t you think?❞  Kasen finished with a wry smile.

Silence reigns for a few moments, Izuminokami biting back the impulse to talk back to his brother or complain about how the older Kanesada was the first to be given the chance of undergoing a Kiwame journey.

‘Maybe if you’d gone back to the citadel instead of running off after that battle, you’d have had the opportunity to start your Kiwame journey.’ A snide voice voice whispers in his mind, and Izuminokami wrinkles his nose and smacks his own head when he thinks Kasen isn’t watching.

The tone Kasen took when talking about Hosokawa also surprised the younger Uchigatana. While he was used to hearing the other swords endlessly complaining about their former masters (Hasebe and Souza being the first two that sprang to mind), he’d always though Kasen had held his former master in high regard. Was he wrong? Was he truly that naive and stupid? Biting his lip harshly, until the coppery taste of of blood hit his tongue; Izuminokami sorted through words in his head, arranging and rearranging them until they sounded coherent, if not elegant.

“I suppose.... That makes sense. In a drawn out way. Heh, trust you of all people to find artistry in something like this Nosada!” He shoots his brother a quick grin before lapsing into silence once more, twirling a bang around his finger.

“Are you alright with this, though? Being here? ....It’s dangerous, Nosada. This place looks beautiful and peaceful, but people have been killed here. And no-one knows who’s done it, or is they’ll strike again...”

❝ Izuminokami…. Mumbling is inelegant. So was that improper greeting. Please speak up louder and do try to remember to be polite.❞

As much as he didn’t want those to be his first words to the younger Kanesada, Kasen really did wish he would fix that habit. Regardless he was relieved to see him, though the smile on his face was concerned just how he was coming off if Izuminokami was acting this uncharacteriscally meek around him. 

❝ Th-Thank you for coming to greet me, however. That was very elegant of you.❞  he added, attempting to clear this nerve-wracking atmosphere. Was he truly this distant from his younger brother?

“Haa~?! Nosada, you jerk! I wasn’t mumbling, I was being respectful!”

Izuminokami knew that he wasn’t going much for his image of being a cool and popular sword by sticking out his tongue at the older Kanesada, but just like that, the awkward atmosphere was broken. Grinning despite the jab at his elegance, Izuminokami visibly relaxed, his stance settling into a more natural and cool-looking one.

“Did Aruji send you here? Or did you get lost while you went on your Kiwame journey?” he teased his elder brother, before blinking at the significance of his words.

“Wait, Nosada! Are you actually on your Kiwame journey now?! Shouldn’t you be back with your old master? I mean, this place is nice but....” Waving a hard around vaguely Izuminokami made a face.

“N-Nosada...”

Fiddling with the hem of one of his sleeves, Izuminokami didn’t know whether to join the other swords in welcoming the elder Kanesada blade to the citadel or to wait and see if Kasen would seek him out himself. Eventually, the younger gathers his nerves and walks towards his brother as the others dissipate, hesitantly tapping Kasen’s shoulder.

“..Yo, Nosada!”

Anything else he had thought of saying flies out of the Uchigatana’s mind as he and his brother lock eyes with one another. Swallowing hard, hands gripping tightly to his obi, his next words are a whisper.

Humility had never been one of Izuminokami’s strongest traits. As Hijikata Toshizou’s beloved sword, one from the illustrious Kanesada school at that, pride was one of his defining features. As both a sword and as a human.

(Alright, who cared if he was from the 11th or 12th generation of Kanesada? He was still a Kanesada sword.)

But after watching the other swords pursuing other work outside of the citadel, Izuminokami had been cowed into also finding his own form of employment, lest the guilt-trips continued. It was less of a bitter pill to swallow than the others implying that he was lazy and a disgrace to his former master.

So his new schedule had been as thus; rise at sunrise and go to his dojo. Clean the place thoroughly, making sure all the necessary equipment was accounted for and functional. Practice by himself for about two hours before opening the dojo for the day. Then conduct classes from about 10 am to 8 pm, his customers ranging in age from children to elders.

(He hadn’t realized that teaching kids would be so much fun, if exhausting. And the elders impressed him with their fitnesse)

After classes finished, he cleaned the dojo from top to bottom once again, before filling out reports (mostly for his own reference), eventually trudging back to the citadel long after night had fallen and sleeping for a few hours before beginning the process all over again. 

Which probably explains why Mikazuki and Jiroutachi find him in an unconscious heap in the main practice hall, boken resting by a limp hand. Deathly pale and dripping with sweat, it takes a few minutes before Izuminokami finally stirs once more, staring up into his comrades’ concerned faces with hazy sapphire eyes.

*Looks at the older swords*

....