Sword Loving Hours

The first thing that hit you was the scent of fish cooking, you got up from your bed confused and slowly strolled over to your kitchen. What you saw was a platinum head of hair attached to a broad back that wore a black sweatshirt.

You didn’t need to stare at the figure anymore before you said his name, “Sanchoumou?”

The man turned his face with a gentle smile on his face, “I would have liked to surprise you with breakfast in bed but it seems you beat this old man to it.”

For some reason your eyes grew wetter the more you stared at him before you just tackled him with a back hug and tightened your arms around his waist.

“Careful little bird-! We wouldn’t want your wings burned-“ Sanchoumou warned as he tried to ensure that didn’t happen but he couldn’t help but have his own tattooed hand caress the hands that were holding his waist.

Your face nestled in the crook of his shoulder that met his shoulder and nuzzled itself deeper so you would never have to leave.

“As much as I would love to stay here, dove. I do have to finish your breakfast unless this little bird wishes to eat burnt fish,” He chuckled as he finished cooking and started to plate.

You gave him one last squeeze before releasing him, lingering close by as if ready to hold him again. When you finally saw his full face as he moved to put the food on the table, you waited in silence until he was done.

“It isn’t as refined as Mitsutada’s or Kasen’s cooking but I think I did well for myself-“ You interrupted him by palming the sides of his face, your thumb in particular caressing the black ink that was etched underneath his eye.

He looked at you with that same gentle smile he gave you every single time without fail before holding the hand that was caressing his tattoo. “Are my wrinkles showing, dove? Is that why you’re touching my face?”

You laughed and shook your head and just kissed his tattoos, “I think your wrinkles make you look sexy, and you’re just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

“You know how to make an old man feel special,” Sanchoumou chuckled as a faint pink dusted his cheeks. As the two of you settled down before the food got cold, you couldn’t help but stare at Sanchoumou the whole time as you ate. Even if the food was burnt or rotten, you would eat every last bite with a view like this.

With a belly full of food, you were content to just relax all day with Sanchoumou within the comfort of your home. The man in question had other plans, which is why you were standing outside whining about how cold it was.

“Sanchoumou do we really need to hike now?” Your teeth clattered as you hugged yourself tight.

With a chuckle, Sanchoumou snaked his hand to yours to squeeze it tight, “A good hike after a good meal keeps us healthy, little dove.”

“Not if I freeze to death,” You mumbled with your head slinking into your coat.

Your hood seemed like the perfect way to shield yourself from the bitter cold, but someone had to ruin your plans. Wrapping a bright scarlet scarf around you, Sanchoumou smiled, “Better, little bird?”

Looking to your side, you couldn’t help but chuckle, “Now you’re going to get cold.”

To rectify this, your hands gently parted the scarf so the two of you could share it together. Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, two people tied together by a fluttering red scarf.

“You were always the clever little dove, weren’t you Aruji?” Sanchoumou smiled.

Your grip on Sanchoumou’s hand tightened, “If it makes sure that we’ll never be apart then, even a fox won’t be able to catch up.”

“Let’s hope a certain little fox didn’t hear that.”

“Pft-“

Despite your attempts to feign such childish laughter, it tumbled out of you like an avalanche. Sanchoumou, caught within its infectious force, joined you. Coughing and wheezing in such childish laughter, you leaned against the older man’s chest for support. His arms wrapped around your waist as you did.

Slowly the snorts slowed to giggles before fading to a smile as you closed your eyes and held him tight.

“I wish we could do this everyday. I missed you,” Your fingers digging into the small of his back.

“Oh little bird…”

“I could wake up to your face everyday and kiss you senseless, I’d make you sick of it. We could do more hikes like these, I don’t care if I get sweaty- or tired or or even exhausted-!”

“Dove…”

You felt something soft land against the top of your head.

“W-we’d never be apart. You’ll… you’ll always be there.”

Just as Sanchoumou sounded out your name, you opened your eyes to a dark ceiling. Sniffles echoed throughout the room, as you felt the tear stains on your pillow.

You refused to look beside you. You didn’t need a reminder that he wasn’t there.

The sniffles cascaded into gasps as the tears flooded your dried up cheeks. Curling to your side, you grabbed the other pillow and squeezed it tight to your chest.

This is what his weary head would have laid upon, where he would turn to see you as you fell asleep and woke up. Where you could have gotten lost in those sanguine eyes…

It seems even threads of fate can be severed after all. Nothing lasts forever. You have to wake up.

The threads of the pillow bore the brunt of your anguish as you gripped into them with your nails, wishing that it was his flesh. So you would never let go of him. So you would never have to lose him.

If only he could see you now, would he think you pathetic?

Where was that proud and strong leader he looked to?

Perhaps they never existed at all.

Perhaps he too wished for a fantasy that would never leave him.

He wouldn’t want the real thing anyway.

Eventually your tears dried once more and your moans of sorrow hiccuped into melancholy.

The sun had risen with bird song, the song of two lovers waking up for a new dawn. It was a beautiful day outside and he would think it’s a great day to take a hike, wouldn’t he?

The bitter cold always melts away to a colorful spring, no matter how long it may seem.

Your foot touched the cold floor as you hugged the pillow tight. Each step mattered, no matter how small it was.

While the sun rose high in one time, another was already asleep with no moon in sight. There was no light to comfort a lonely pheasant after all.

It was quite the somber sight, thought the older Inspector. To think that even his heir would crumble, but then again heartbreak was sharper than any blade and crueler than any poison.

Even he, Norimune Ichimonji, was not safe from it ebbing away at his own. And yet… Sanchoumou remained in your room, hidden away from prying eyes. He shuttered the doors, blocked off the windows, and even refused to light a candle as he dwelled in your room. Not even the full moon was allowed into the last place you remained. Nothing would taint the last traces of you.

Leaning against the doorframe, Norimune’s gaze burned through Sanchoumou’s back turned against him. Narrowing his eyes at the pheasant, the former Time Government inspector cleared his throat obnoxiously, “Ah, it seems the dust has attacked my poor, aged lungs! What is a poor old man like myself to do.”

Silence was Norimune’s only reply, as he cleared his throat again almost coughing unironically this time, “My poor lungs-“

“If you do not wish to see such an unsightly place, I recommend you venture elsewhere, Gozen.”

“I thought I told Nikkou to cease with such names, my son. To think he would infect even you with such frivolous things.”

“Gozen, what have you come here for.”

Norimune snapped his fan closed as he crossed his arms, “I wished to see the head of the Ichimonji clan but it seems this retired old man sees nothing more than an overgrown dust bunny in his place.”

“… Haha. Perhaps that would suit me better, than such a title.”

The retired former Ichimonji head smacked his forehead with his fan, letting out an exasperated a sigh, “Sanchoumou, my boy. Becoming a dust bunny will not bring them back.”

“… And yet I, a sword, could not even protect the one I hold most dear. What use is a blade who lets his wielder slip through the cracks. That fearless little bird shot right out of the sky right in front of our eyes, powerless to stop it.”

Another tired sigh reverberated throughout the room as Norimune sat beside his heir, “And what use is a sword hidden away for centuries, hm?”

Sanchoumou lowered his head.

“I chose you as the head of the Ichimonji clan for a reason and I know you will not prove me wrong despite your doubts. You were a talented and capable youngster. I have a good eye for these things, you know,” He tapped the side of his head with his closed fan.

“Your doubts, your misery, and even the dust that surrounds you, it will not bring your dove back. I thought you, my son, would know this by now.”

Sanchoumou’s fingers gripped something in his lap.

“Such wallowing will only rust you, my boy. Hiding away from all those who can see will not salve your wounds.”

“Yet it is the only thing this uninscribed Ichimonji is permitted to do.”

Norimune snorted at that, “And yet you still kick away the opportunity presented at your own two feet.”

Sanchoumou finally looked at his predecessor in the eye, despite his sunglasses shielding his eyes from the nonexistent light in the room, the bags under his eyes were deep and dried from many tears.

“We were granted a precious body by our dear saniwa, two hands to do whatever we wish! Legs and feet to run to our hearts content and even a heart to feel the sorrow of loss. Do you think that such a chance is wasted in being hidden away once more?”

“My boy, don’t you wish to spread your wings once more?”

Sanchoumou looked out the door of the room before looking back down in his lap.

Silence blanketed the room once more, moments passed before Norimune began to stand up to leave. And heavy steps followed him.

A knowing smile crept onto the retiree’s face as he saw his heir take one step after another. All he needed was a proper push.

Norimune poked Sanchoumou’s back with a file, “Perhaps this shall be the wind beneath your wings, my boy.”

The pheasant gingerly took the file and as he scanned through his contents, a brilliant crimson fire grew ablaze in his eyes.

He ran down the hallway with renewed vigor, hope even. The proud pheasant flew once more with a brilliant red scarf clenched in his fist as his mentor watched him soar through the sky. Norimune coughed a bit as he opened the sliding doors to the outside. The full moon stared back at him as moonlight cleansed your room.

“Bring them back, my boy. Perhaps it’s time to let the newer generation write their stories.”