tkrb exchange

1.

There was something shiny lying underwater. Horikawa noticed this as he walked along the riverside, and so he put down the laundry basket to take a better look. The small object disappeared out of sight as he kneeled, but soon enough, sunlight returned to shine over what seemed to be a golden earring hidden between the rocks.

Rolling up his sleeves, the young exorcist reached for the earring. A flawless, very carefully crafted piece of jewelry. He held it up to the light. It was too flashy and it looked too expensive to belong to someone on the countryside. Maybe an unassuming traveler had dropped it? A foreigner?

A splash of water right to Horikawa’s face worked wonders on interrupting his train of thought.

“Kashuu!”

“Got you.”

Kashuu being the boy smirking right in front of Horikawa, the water up to his neck. Said boy swam swiftly towards firm land, as if the opposing stream of the river didn’t matter one bit. Perhaps it didn’t for a river spirit —everything from his hair to his clothes was dry as he sat on a rock next to the human boy.

Horikawa finished drying his face with his sleeves and pulled a face that oddly resembled a pout. “Why did you do that for?”

“You were spacing out for good. I thought I’d get you back to earth. You’re welcome!”

“Ah! Right.” Horikawa looked over to his palm as if he’d just remembered something important. Kashuu raised his eyebrows curiously. “Isn’t this yours?”

The river spirit already had two well placed earrings of his own, but he still carefully examined the piece. It was strange of Kashuu to appear so thoughtful, so it sparked Horikawa’s interest even more.

“You found this here?” Kashuu asked.

Horikawa nodded. “Do you know who’s from?”

“Izumi no Kami Kanesada.”

“Kane-san?!” The reply was so sudden and genuine that the spirit stumbled back a bit. Horikawa’s already big eyes widened even more whenever he got excited.

“He’d totally freak out if he heard you call him that, though.”

“Sorry, sorry. Nagasone-san has been telling me about him since I was a kid, so it feels kind of familiar.” Horikawa explained. “Do you know him?”

“Uh-huh. He used to be preeetty famous around spirits here, but he was sealed by an exorcist years ago.” Time was an alien concept for immortal beings, so when Kashuu talked about years, he could mean a decade or a century. To him, there wasn’t much of a difference. “They said his presence brought war, or whatever, but you know? I think he was more flashy and big-mouthed than actually dangerous.”

Horikawa smiled. “So, he’s a bit like you.”

“Hey!” Another splash to the face, but this time, Horikawa managed to protect himself with the neglected laundry pile.

Horikawa laughed at Kashuu’s frown. “Kashuu, do you know where he’s sealed?”

The spirit was taken aback. “Wait, are you seriously thinking of breaking the seal?”

The boy looked at the jewel in his hand. “I’d like to return this.”

2.

After finishing laundry and promising Kashuu a tray of dango, Horikawa learnt that if he followed the riverside and went into the forest, he’d find a meadow with a big old rock right in the middle where the Tengu was supposed to be restrained. Nagasone and Yasusada had decided to follow him. Out of precaution or curiosity, he didn’t know.

“Nagasone-san, did you know this place all along?” Horikawa asked as they kept walking cautiously across old branches.

“Yes,” the man admitted. “But there wasn’t much of a challenge in telling you right away, was it?” He patted Horikawa on the shoulder. “I knew you’d find him on your own someday.”

Nagasone Kotetsu had taken him and Yasusada as students from an early age, when they discovered the power they had within themselves to sense and see things where others couldn’t. He was a gentle man for what his rough image would suggest, but never a soft teacher.

“But then, that means you have tried to break the seal before, right?” Yasusada asked, tilting his head. The man huffed.

“More times than I’d like to admit! Many others have tried, too, but that thing is impossible to break. Maybe I’ve gotten rusty over the years.”

Horikawa laughed, but before he could say anything in return, he realized they had just arrived the meadow. The moment he stepped in, he felt a shift in the aura. It was dead silent in comparison to the rest of the forest and as he approached the rock, an overwhelming sensation ran through his whole body, making it difficult to get through. There were no weeds wrapped around the base of nearby trees or any grass on the ground surrounding the monument. It was, without a doubt, a strong spiritual power unlike he’d ever experienced before.

Nagasone and Yasusada had noticed too, as they remained at the edge of the meadow.

Horikawa kneeled in front of the stone and grabbed the earring resting in his pocket to gently place it on top. “Izumi no Kami Kanesada. You’ve been idle for too long already. I came to return something that belongs to you, so please, show yourself.” He bowed, hands together and forehead touching the ground.

Yasusada grabbed from Nagasone’s sleeve, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes glued to the stone, jaw clenched.

But nothing happened. Not for the first few seconds, or minutes. No matter how devotedly Horikawa repeated the routine prayers, or how many times his forehead grazed the dirt, or Yasusada’s suggestion that they should offer the Tengu some dango, since the river spirit seemed to fancy them.

 And because of Horikawa’s strong patience, the other exorcists didn’t insist too much on dragging him out of there when the moon started to peek behind the clouds. I’ll be joining you later for dinner, he’d promised.

And Horikawa Kunihiro always showed up on time.

3.

When he woke up, he realized his face was plastered against something hard and cold. He felt something ticklish on his cheek, too, like a spider was crawling on his skin. He opened his eyes slowly as the heaviness of sleep dissipated.

It was only then that he realized, even in such darkness, that the ‘spider’ was actually hair. Strands of the long, black hair of a tall, elegant figure sitting on top of the ancient rock. Moonlight washed over his silhouette, outlining his long wings and shining over now two familiar golden earrings.

Horikawa’s eyes widened and his mouth barely opened.

The figure smirked. “Hah! Left you speechless, human boy?”

The exorcist got back on his feet in the spilt of a second and his whole face lightened up.

“Kane-san!!”

The Tengu’s proud smile fell into the most offended ’What?’

4.

Nagasone and Yasusada had expected Horikawa to return in time for dinner. What they hadn’t expected in their wildest dreams was for Horikawa to return with company, let alone the company of a legendary ancient spirit flaunting his huge black wings on the veranda.

Because youkai are bound to serve the human who unseals them and gives them a name, Kanesada —or 'Kane-san’, as Horikawa insisted on calling him despite the Tengu’s protests— was now a new member of the household.

It wasn’t easy at first, but within a few days of knowing him, Horikawa came to learn a few things about Kanesada.

First, he didn’t fancy the idea of serving a human, so when Horikawa self-proclaimed as his assistant, his confidence plummeted once again, even if he didn’t openly admit it.

Second, he did like dango, and most of Horikawa’s cooking… and sake.

Third, just as Kashuu, he seemed to care a lot about his appearance —he’d let Horikawa groom his hair (and wings) from time to time—, but that didn’t make him delicate. He was a strong spirit, after all, and that made him the perfect companion to have when exorcising ill-intended demons. He’d brag about it, a lot.

Years went by just like that, way too fast for the humans and unnoticed by Kanesada. He’d live forever, anyway. He didn’t have to worry about illnesses, aging, or the far cries of war looming outside of their small village. Horikawa, on the other hand, only had so much time on this earth. In the blink of an eye, he was already old enough to drink sake —why humans had a rule for this, he didn’t understand.

The exorcist grimaced, nearly choking after taking a sip of the cup of sake Kanesada had handed him. Kashuu laughed and Kanesada gave the exorcist a pat on the back.

“It tastes horrible!”

“Hehe, that’s because you’re supposed to make a toast first!” Continued Kanesada, though he didn’t seem to have any problem chugging down his drink without it.

Kashuu raised an eyebrow. “A toast?”

“Oh, it’s sort of a human tradition,” Horikawa began. “We raise the cups to cheer for something, or celebrate, or even make wishes.” The whole thing sounded weird when describing it out loud, but Kashuu seemed interested enough. He dragged his feet out of the river and sat close to the other two, making a small circle.

“Alriight, sounds fun. Count me in!”

Horikawa then poured a third cup of sake for the river spirit, who wrinkled his nose at the invasive smell of alcohol. “But, Kane-san, what would we be toasting for?” The exorcist asked.

“Me, obviously.” Kashuu intervened, earning an eye-roll and a laugh from Kanesada.

“Right right, as if!”

“Then, do you have a better idea?”

“Well…” The Tengu’s voice lowered and he made a pause, like he was searching for the right words, almost bashful. Kashuu stared at him amusedly —'you’ve been around humans for too long’, his eyes spoke.

Kanesada scratched the back of his neck. “Alright, alright! Let’s do it!” He raised his cup first. “For a long life!”

It took Horikawa some time to get it. The boy raised his cup with a smile.

“Yeah.”

———–

“SURPRISE!”

Ookurikara jumped, his whole body tensing when pale, porcelain finger suddenly grabbed onto his face, thin digits slapping his cheeks. There was a sudden warmth behind him, a slightly shorter frame pushing up against his back. 

The brunette clenched his teeth, his hands balling into fists as he resisted to urge to punch the annoying boy who’s snuck up behind his for the fifth time this week. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“There’s nothing better than bothering Kuri-chan~”

“Don’t call me that!” Ookurikara snapped back immediately. He slapped Tsurumaru’s hands away from his face and spun around to face the white-haired boy. “Go bother Mikazuki or Mitsutada. I’m not in the mood for your games right now.”

“But they’re so boring.” Tsurumaru sighed dramatically, leaning against one of the desks near him. “Mika doesn’t even react. He’s impossible to surprise. I doubt he appreciates my surprises-”

“And you think I do?” Ookurikara interrupted, narrowing his eyes at Tsurumaru. The white-haired boy just waves his hand nonchalantly, brushing off the brunette’s comment.

“And Mitsutada gets scared to easily. Surprising him is like bullying a mouse – entertaining for a while, but gets boring rather quickly.

“I’d really appreciated if you stopped pestering me every time you were bored.”

Tsurumaru pouted, his golden eyes staring up at Ookurikara imploringly. For a moment, Ookurikara’s breath was stolen away from him as he stared into those eyes. God, they were so beautiful. It was really unfair – everything about the white-haired boy was beautiful: his soft, porcelain skin, his bright eyes, the curve of his mouth when he grinned, the way his hips moved when he walked…

“Ohoho, Kuri-chan is staring at me~”

But wow, sometimes Ookurikara just wanted to punch him in his beautiful, soft face. But honestly, that’d be a horrible idea. Tsurumaru wasn’t exactly a weak damsel in distress and Ookurikara had no intentions of getting them both suspended for fighting. He’d seen first-hand what Tsurumaru could do during physical education, and honestly, it was always better to be on Tsurumaru’s team rather than his enemy.

“Kuri-chan?”

Ookurikara flinched when a pale finger poked him in cheek, his gaze narrowing into a glare. Something flashed on Tsurumaru’s face, too quickly gone for him to identify. A shrill tone blasted through the air, the bell signalling the start of class. Immediately, Tsurumaru perked up, already maneuvering to surprise the first person to enter the classroom. But Ookurikara simple sat down slowly in his chair, his eyes trailing after Tsurumaru’s snow-white hair.

For a moment, he thought he’d seen something; a flash of sadness and, strangely enough, longing.