[ tears ] your muse wiping away mine’s tears .
A soft cry of pain, quickly bitten off,and the gleaming bokken clattered to the ground a few feet from wherethe boy was kneeling on the floor, clutching his wrist to his chest.Above him, thin chest heaving, his nine-year-old sister, a year hisjunior, was looking down at him pensively; she hadn't spared force,as he hadn't, but once again, she had bested him. At ten, Kureto wasalready growing into the vague lankiness of a young teen, standing agood foot over Mahiru – and yet, again, she had beaten him. Theykept their positions, her with her own bokken trained at his face,him crouching with his aching arm curled close, until the oneswatching them were once more talking among themselves, the spectaclequickly forgotten in favour of something else. They had only watchedthe last few moments of the Hiiragi heirs' sparring session, andbesides, it wasn't as interesting without real swords. If theirweapons hadn't been wood, Kureto's hand would have been sliced off atthe wrist instead of breaking clean through the bone.
The moment the men were turned away,Mahiru lowered her training sword and crouched down in front of herbig brother, her voice tinted with soft urgency. “Let me see. Doesit hurt?“ She was expected to best him, as he was expected to besther, but while she went along with their demands of testing herstrength against his, she never took any enjoyment in it. It was acruel tradition, and more often than not she actually consideredletting Kureto win every now and then; she progressed faster than he,both in physical combat and in magical, and she knew the cruelpatriarch of their family shamed him for it, hoping to make him tryharder, grow faster. She bit her lower lip when he unfurled enough tolet her see, his wrist angry red and already darkening, tilted at anangle that seemed unnatural. She wanted to apologize, but his pridewas hurting harder than his arm, and that was obvious, too. Instead,Mahiru cupped his twisted face in her hands, thumbs stroking thewetness that was little sweat and all tears on his cheeks. “It'sokay, you'll be okay. Come on. It's not that bad, let's get youwrapped up.“
