#xtachii

The white fox tilts his head, then circles around ever so slightly closer. Its clear the creature is intrigued - if only for the prospect of an interesting drinking partner - but he isn’t about to give up his prize so readily.

Rather than bolt away he sits down and watches carefully. His tail curls in around his legs as he stares at the sword.

These creatures who fought to maintain history despite the pain they suffered were curious indeed and he would get to know them. Thus came the bribe of alcohol -- although he was not about to part with it so readily.

     hearing that the infirmary was to be kept as clear as possible never meant anything good. especially so when a squad had been sent out just the day before. it was still fairly early morning when the sounds of commotion filled the citadel, both izuminokami and his brother freezing in their tracks when, across the courtyard, they saw saniwa and yagen racing for the transportation room with a stretcher between them. exchanging a panicked glance, the two uchigatana took off in the same direction, trying to catch up to their master.

     their steps slow as they near the transportation room, the sight that met them in the distance sending a chill down both of their spines. saniwa and ookurikara had successfully lifted one of the other returning toudan onto the stretcher, yagen seeing to the others. all except ONE, who cradled the blade of the one who was worst off as if it was his lifeline.

     izuminokami didn’t even notice kasen calling for him to move, too SHOCKED to hear anything.

     from where they stood, who was being carted away was still largely obscured, but that blade… that blade gave it away. after failing to get his brother’s attention, kasen tugged on the back of his younger brother’s keikogi, pulling him to the edge of the hall, out of the way of their master and ookurikara as the rolled the stretcher back down, towards the infirmary.

     seeing taroutachi’s unconscious face, his entire form battered and bruised, as he passed them, finally woke izuminokami from his shock. but only PARTIALLY. still dazed, slowly does he begin to trail after them, losing sight of them and his brother ( who’d taken off after them the moment they passed ) soon enough. eventually, upon hearing footsteps behind him, he slows to a stop again, turning with wide eyes to see jiroutachi getting closer.

     the ōdachi looked a right mess, and it takes a moment for izuminokami to realize he still cradled taroutachi’s blade close to his chest. in a flash, anger surged into his chest, gaze turning hard and cold. ❛ what the HELL are you doing standing around with that?! why didn’t you send it to the infirmary with tarou? do you WANT him to break, you idiot?! ❜ for a moment, he alternates between wanting to shake jiroutachi for what he was doing, pushing him down the hall, and grabbing tarou’s sword himself to make for the infirmary.

     all could just damage it more. damage HIM more. and that was the very last thing izuminokami wanted.

how adorable are you? “…only ten percent? Hey… is...

(Jirou.) “… Did I actually break it?”

given // accepting!

     the sun had just begun to set when kasen began to slowly meander about the citadel. a stillness had fallen over their home fairly early that particular night, leaving a sense of peace in the air. however, for the uchigatana, it was coupled with a deep sense of loneliness. after the last expedition had returned a day early after a run in with the revisionists, jiroutachi had been in the repair rooms. kasen had been told he’d taken a hit for one of the tantou that easily could have made one of their smaller comrades break, but he had yet to be able to see the ōdachi. in between his usual chores, there had been a few things that had called for his attention throughout the day, leaving him with no free time to go see jirou.

     eventually, he finds his way back to his own room, just as the sun was about to completely dip below the horizon. it feels somehow smaller, darker, colder, without jiroutachi’s laughter reverberating off the walls.

     kasen really needed to go see how he was doing. if only to settle his own nerves, reassure himself that despite a few minor injuries, the one he loved was alright.

     there’s a sigh on his lips as he glances about the space, as if becoming re-accustomed to it without the ōdachi there, right in the center. it surprised him, really, just how quickly jirou became his everything. how much his world now revolved around him. sure, he still served saniwa as he should, but he couldn’t deny the light that the ōdachi had brought into his life. jirou had given him another purpose in this life aside from fighting, and kasen could never thank him enough for that.

     shaking himself out of his thoughts for a moment, the uchigatana walks towards their shared wardrobe, beginning a still somewhat absentminded search through it for a certain robe. one of jiroutachi’s. the least kasen could do was bring him something aside from his combat gear to sleep in, for however long he’d be in the repair room.

     that was when he heard the door slide open. brows draw together at the lack of a knock; he knew that meant it could only be one person, and a small smile is already tugging at his lips.

@xtachii​

Touch Symbols

There is about countless ways to make Furiwakegami upset. Today Kashagiri was able to score ten points without even trying, always rushing the older one to do more and more tasks and sometimes just by being nearby with his annoying excitement. Where this boy stores his energy? From where it comes from? Furiwakegami simply doesn’t understand nor have intention in trying to. The last straw was when Furiwakegami had to listen about how being appropriate was the most useless thing to be. The context was lost in the sudden anger that plagued the older one for hours. “At least show a bit of sensitiveness around the others. That’s a nice thing to do, you know?” is the last thing he remembers of saying to that wakizashi whose tongue is too long for his own safety.

Of course Furiwakegami would be sulking in a corner by the end of the afternoon, when he had time to organize his thoughts. He can’t lie about this side of him, he is a Hiromitsu, not the first to be a self-isolating one after all. Four completely peeled mikan laid by Furiwakegami’s side, the skins cut in delicate patterns, proving that he was just peeling them for entertainment instead of having the intention of eating them. The sweet fragrance of the oranges masked the so known smell of alcohol, so once the odachi’s touched his back a jump and high-pitched grunt came from the shorter one.

      ( Bonus Jirou! )