#bellsplit

People like them, born into the world, were born for a reason and a purpose. They were born to use their gifts and talents, to make things better, not for themselves, but for the people that were around them, the people they had befriended, cared for and loved, it was that strength they held that was meant to be used to protect them.

Someone like him - someone so strong and well trained, he wondered for so long while he waited here for him, what had happened to him, he felt a connection for a moment, as they fought and he looked into his eyes, of how easily, simple mistakes can undo a lifetime of make amends and trying to walk the true and noble path.

He knew he had walked it once, long before he himself had come into the world, and for one reason or the other. Mistakes had been made, but fighting someone like him and getting to know him, he knew deep down within himself – someone like that, a mirror image of himself almost, would never have freely become a demon on his own, he would never have taken the offer to become, weaker, to regress and remove all that he had done.

“Hakuji ..”

As he turned around from the cherry blossom tree and looked over at him, waiting this long for him, was worth it to get to finally settle his eyes on the man he was, not the monster he had become as he slowly breathed out and approached him, light and gentle steps taken as he walked towards him and stopped just a little before him and smiled at him.

“Don’t be afraid ..”

As he placed his hand upon his colorful hair and playfully ruffled it. He had fought so well, he had done so much, he had broken free from the demon king himself and made his stand and defied him, what so many wished they could do, but could not, he had shown true strength, he had shown what humanity could do, when one remembers, who they had been and why they had chased after strength in the first place.

“Here ..”

The offer was made for him, as he placed out his hand for him to take or to reject, the same offer he had made to him a long time ago, that would have brought them both into the darkness, here and now he was offering his hand out to him, to come into the light, to feel the warmth that was offered out to him and to accept and walk a new path with him.

“Hakuji, don’t you want, another chance, to do it all over again, but this time .. do it right, now it is my turn, to protect you, if you will let me.”

     @bellsplit​ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ: help he's awkward & wants to kiss koyuki but hakuji has THE ANXIETY // unprompted

     ❝...!❞

     She, too, is full of anxiety. Koyuki’s heart thrums against her ribcage as her much smaller hands hold his battle scarred ones. Focus is given to where they touch, her thumbs brushing over the raised lines of tendons and the dips between his knuckles. These are hands that she knows are capable of great violence... Her father has trained Hakuji for years, and as much as Keizo has tried to keep her from seeing so much violence, she is not a foolish girl.

     Even so, she can’t help but feel warm at the sight of his hands. These hands that have cared for her for so long, these hands that carried her when she was weak, these hands that held her with such tenderness and care that she could never imagine him harming another creature.

     And that is why she loves him.

     Swallowing her nerves, Koyuki gives those hands a gentle squeeze before she lifts her head. Her face is pink, pink enough to match her eyes, she’s sure, but she smiles at him. Lifting herself onto her toes, Koyuki continues to hold his hands to close the distance between them with a gentle, chaste kiss.

“Yes very much so, it is everything that I thought it would be and so much more - excuse me for a moment.”

As the demon king turned, so much yelling and screaming as he looked upon the two culprits.

“DOMA YOU IDIOT, PUT AKAZA DOWN, YOU KNOW HE CANNOT SWIM!”

A heavy sigh leaves him before he turns to the other demon struggling in the water, this – this was what he wanted, his great victory … he had to remind himself of that daily now.

“KOKUSHIBO I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO TOO FAR OUT ON YOUR OWN!”

He is inconsolable! He can barely manage to put up his tenth missing poster for today in between his sobs!!

tell him how you REALLY feel !! || accepting like fr send this in -

There follows a silence made tense — and usually it would be laden with the cruelty of a knowing smirk. But what makes it so odd, this time, is the lack thereof. In fact, following the third moon's declaration of war, there's a notable lack of, well, anything.

Lavender claws rise aburptly, in an aimless thrust, to almost cup his own mouth, before his hand settles for grabbing at a handful of his own tresses to fiddle with, instead.

❝ You can't stop thinking about me? ❞ An empty reverberation... which is ... an abridged version of what the bellsplitter had to say, for sure. And then within the blink of a human eye, Dōma's lips have curled into a darling smile. He shurgs, lets his hands fall to his side again.

There's an urgency in the way he fastens the sash; the fabric catches onto a lavender claw and the oni shakes it off like a cat that stepped into water. White incense rises from ornamental jars framing his chamber mirror — an odd practice, that one. To have a mirror that size in one's bedroom. An added touch of vanity to a room that already spills over with it; from the hand-painted murals on the walls to the collection of hair ornaments displayed next to an arrangement of pots, to the countless Obon paper lanterns dangling from the ceiling.

You know; the ones humans make to guide their loved ones back home.

❝ You sure sounded like it. ❞ The comment spills nonchalantly from his lips. His eyes catch that stain at the corner of his lips that's not exactly blood. The frozen lotus pops it in his mouth all the same. His other hand is already working towards straightening the rim of his ceremonial robes.

Dōma had jumped to his feet a second before the bell and vajra chimed. A sound that might have only tickled his companion's ears; judging from his astonished reaction when he was suddenly pushed off of the younger oni with such fervor.

Because usually, Dōma only likes to squeeze him closer. And because he ditched him cold turkey on the tatami without sparing him another glimpse. They've been dancing around each other for some time now. It makes sense, knowing him, that the third moon would be a little thrown off by the act.

Though that wasn't quite what Akaza was getting at, was it. It was more... possessive than that.

Dōma doesn't read too much into it. He bounces his own mane and a waterfall of white spreads over his cloaked back. Two fingers reach into some little jar placed onto the bedside table and produce a deep red substance that he proceeds to spread over his cheeks. It adds that much needed touch of color. Clawed fingers fan out and hover over his face - and once that hand falls, the fangs are gone and the kanji in his eye has blended into a perfectly round pupil. There's quite a difference between the oni Akaza knows and this pious young man that turns to face him with a playful smile. He does not look a day over twenty.

❝ Oh well. ❞ It's somewhat playful. ❝ Better start getting used to it then, hm? ❞

And just like that, he reaches out to tap the very tip of that wrinkled nose with an affectionate smile and makes sure to toss a towel in the his flustered counterpart's way before exiting; as a human.

The bass has been hammering into his head. It's not pretty down here; the place is stuffy, reeks of sweat and smoke and booze and all the things that comprise a good hunt. Over the weekend these underground bars are like a hive for escapists. People looking for a breath of life in between their dull nine to five weeks. Something intriguing; something different.

A rainbow eyed fantasy.

Long legs fold one over the other as his build slumps lightly on the stool. Rolled up sleeves speak of wealth, in the absence of a single corn on his knuckles and the watch tied to his wrist. It's almost provocative, coupled with the brand tag on his belt and the glisten of freshly polished shoes. The entire ensemble is probably worth more than what most people here make in a year. Painted nails reach between spiky platinum tufts to settle his sunglasses into place, before taking another sip of the house special cocktail. His third one. The bartender has taken a liking to the warmth of that friendly smile.

❝ Ah-hah-hah~ You're soooo funny, Hakuji. What a dreary thought to have at a place like this. ❞ His laugh is bombastic, still moreso seen than heard over the music. He had been meaning to slither his way close to this one ever since his first was raised above his head in the ring. If Dōma had held any doubts before seeing that, tonight certainly confirmed it. He would recognize the style of those punches anywhere. In any life.

Ugh, how disturbingly poetic.

In either case, he's found him now. And he holds no intention of letting go. Whatever underlying motives exist in the unrepenting man will not be explored tonight; as he was overjoyed to see Hakuji enter the nightclub in the first place — probably to wash down the thrill of that good fight. So pensive and stoic; Dōma's head had perked up instantaneously upon that entrance and his hand had hovered a bit too long over that woman's drink - though he completely dropped what he'd been doing with her to sneak his way up to the bar...

— and find this young man was nothing like the demon he remembers, at all.

Naturally, he had to sit there and pester him until he got to the bottom of this.