so nice to see your face again.
    The only memories from his hometown & birth place was the district the youkai had been assigned to.
    Itâs an unwelcoming feeling, and itâs something that is not well welcomed. Leaving Mountain Kurama has always been one of his fears; to be apart from everything he has always known, his homeplace, his lair. He expects, of course, to be back -- someday, one day. Surely Sojobo-sama would not let one of his Tengus go missing; although he wasnât one to be amidst his children, they all knew perfectly well how protective the King was.
    But itâs weird -- how slowly, slowly and painfully, things that surrounded his company back home were now with him. Or, better said, things that used to surround him, things that left because they could, things that left because they had a path to take, and now, they reconnected again. After years, decades, centuries; after so long that one wouldâve forgotten face, sound; but all of it was too hard to forget.
    Like the color of his hair, long, silky, a bright, soft shade of pink. Like the color of his eyes; red as the blood that flowed through the veins of his master. Like his voice, once deeper & able to send chills down anyoneâs spine, but now soft & gentle and enthusiastic like he remembers from when he left, bidding his family -- thatâs what he liked to call them -- farewell and, he remembers, how the red of his eyes were so delicate and small and wet because it was hard to say goodbye when one knew there was a chance theyâd never see each other again.
    But he doesnât remember it, nor he knew the reason tears were falling, because being reforged & made into a shorter sword came with the possibility of forgetting.
    â Imano... Imanotsurugi...-dono... â And it hurts; like would a blade through his skin, through his heart, through the years behind them that were only a memory, only an once upon a time. â Itâs-- I-- How-- â I missed you.