estoria | [CLOSED] Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?

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[CLOSED] Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?

Who: Nice Sooj and Peanut Sword
When: After the embarrassing book event
Where: Their room at Swordhaus
What: Souji is determined to live the rest of his life under a blanket in shame. Kashuu doesn't think this is a stellar idea. Backstory talk will happen.
Rating/Warning: Awkward references to Souji previously trying to unlock Kashuu's romance route during the event. Feelings make no sense. Fucked up childhood things are discussed.

***

Souji didn't really know which part of the previous madness was worst, really. Forgetting everything about himself and acting with revulsion at the idea of fighting and killing is... uncomfortable, to say the least, but at least it's not embarrassing as such. The fact that he'd flirted with - and definitely tried to involve himself with - just about everything old enough to drink and alive enough to stand upright, on the other hand, is positively mortifying.

Getting it into his head that he was in love with both Kashuu and Yamato, and seeing the other Soujis as some sort of rivals is so unbelievably awkward, he can't find proper words for it. It's so far from okay, it would take light several decades to travel the distance.

So once his mind has recovered enough to actually process these things, he more or less simply curls up on his futon in between Yamato's and Kashuu's beds - forget sleeping together with either sword right now, he'd probably die - and pulls the blanket over his head. He's got a stash of candy and a bottle of water to survive on for a while, and he'd appreciate it if people would leave him to waste away after that, thanks.

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[Well, what about swords, huh!! They're not people! (Self-classified, of course, but still--)

That is to say, Kashuu's trying to give Souji a little space, first. That entire debacle had definitely been embarrassing for both of them, and more than just a little awkward. The timing certainly could have been better, too, considering he'd already been an emotionally confused mess before any of this... But at least he's had the time to at least try processing all of it, since he was left blessedly unaffected. Souji? Not so lucky. It's no wonder at all that he'd want to hide himself away for a little while.

...But "a little while" means "a little while", okay! He's not going to just let Souji waste away in between their beds with his little pile of candy. After popping his head in to check on this sad lump a few times, he'll finally mosey into the room on his fourth check, plopping himself down on his own bed and nudging Souji with his foot.]

How long are you planning on staying under there, huh?

[Swords are totally people too, gosh.

It's not like he can't hear that someone is checking on him, or figure out who it probably is, but in a fit of childishness - which isn't really a stretch for him anyway - he simply refuses to emerge. Besides, the fact that it probably is Kashuu just makes him want to bury his face against his pillow hard enough that he won't feel the heat of his blush.

Which is exactly what he does as he hears the sword enter the room, right up until the point where he can either stop trying to either eat the pillow or be eaten by it, or suffocate. He uncurls a little bit with a sigh, only to stiffen again as Kashuu nudges him.

After a moment or two, he extends a hand as pale as roots that have never seen daylight, giving Kashuu's foot a poke back.]

Until I'm no longer embarrassed... or the sky falls down, I guess. Whichever comes first. [He does manage something of a playful tone, but it's pretty feeble.]

We don't have time to wait for either of those things.

[Not at the rate Souji's going, anyway!! ...Though honestly, Kashuu's still pretty embarrassed, too. This just happens to be one of those situations where he's good at pretending that he's unaffected (which is a good thing, he figures, since they can't both be hiding under their sheets).

He moves Souji's hand away with his foot, but there's clearly no hostility in the gesture or any actual desire to shoo him off. They may be mutually embarrassed, but he still has a promise to uphold, okay??]

Y'know, you weren't even the most embarrassing person out there. [IS THAT REALLY REASSURING, THOUGH.]

[That actually draws a helpless little laugh out of him because... really Kashuu? Truly a Bro.]

Thank you. I'm glad to hear that.

[Said as solemnly as he can manage to sort of draw attention to the absurdity of the whole thing. After a moment, he also moves from poking Kashuu's foot to wrapping his fingers around his ankle, giving it a light squeeze and a tug. The gesture is followed by a small sigh, and one eye, deep indigo in the soft lighting in the room, watching Kashuu from underneath the blanket.]

Sorry about... the kissing. [Though the memory still doesn't feel as unnatural as he feels it maybe ought to, which is one main reason for being incredibly embarrassed about the whole thing, honestly. It's still weird and makes him feel conflicted as all hell, but it just doesn't actively repel him either, as if the step isn't that big from all the clinging and and petting and more acceptable kissing they've done before. It's just A Thing and he sure doesn't know what to do with it.]

[LOOK, HE'S TRYING... Or he's making a vague Kashuu-like effort, at least. Before his ankle is held but after Souji's thanks, he prods the Souji lump with his foot again, as if to say cut that shit out. Don't make fun of him!!

But ah, leave it to this dingus punk to just directly bring up the exact topic that Kashuu had planned on dancing around. Why does he do these things? He does them intentionally, surely, LIKE A PUNK. He bounces his foot a little out of want for something to do to keep himself busy, and not to actually shake Souji's grasp.]

S'not like you could help it. That library made a bunch of people really weird and crazy.

[Souji, too... Though a lot of the underlying similarities that had stuck around were unpleasant, to say the least. That desperation to not be left behind, for one-- A true Okitagumi Trait™.]

[Souji sighs quietly under his blanket, shifting a little bit so more of his face is visible, and his hand still maintains his grip on the sword's ankle. As if the contact is an anchor - and right now probably better than draping himself over his lap or anything else that normally would seem completely normal. Now, it would seem somehow like flirting even though it isn't.

Or is it flirting if he's thinking of it like that, even though he's not sure why he would want that? Isn't that kind of behavior all about intention? Ughhh, he wishes he'd paid attention to people talking about this sort of thing back home.]

If I'd just been acting completely crazy, I think maybe it wouldn't be so embarrassing, you know? But with you, I acted more like myself than with most other people, I just... interpreted it differently. That's the weird part, right?

[Please don't let him be alone in being specifically weirded out by this more than anything.]

Oh.

[See, the thing about that is Kashuu hadn't really been around to see Souji interact with anyone else?! Sure, he'd caught snippets of conversation in between darting around on babysitting duties, but it's not like he ever sat down for an extended period of time, listened to him, and went "hm! Something here is slightly amiss!"

Now that it's been pointed out, it seems Souji definitely isn't alone in thinking that's the most bizarre part. ...Though Kashuu is also very bad at handling the whole "human emotions" thing to begin with, so confused might be a more appropriate word. He's not exactly put off by it; he just has no idea how to handle that...]

Eh... Well - maybe that's just the way your effect worked? I dunno if there's any way to tell, though. I mean, unless you like, did a big poll or something. [He bounces his foot a couple more times, but then eventually he does move to shake Souji's hand free. Only so he can slide off the side of his bed and sit next to his side, though. Even with this embarrassing topic, Kashuu doesn't really like maintaining that small gap of distance.]

But it's still something you couldn't really help, so...

I don't know, it was more like... with everyone else, I was just trying to, uhm... [Nah, just going to hide his face for a little while more, but he does also curl in closer around Kashuu, leaning his face against his knee. He's not good at the distance thing either.]

I was just trying to sleep with them. Or, well, convince them that it would be a good idea. By flirting really badly. I don't exactly have that much experience in that department.

[Okay, fine, that embarrassment is out of the way, at least. His face feels like it's burning, though, and chances are it's actually not from fever this time. Then again, at the same time, there is something unmistakably soothing about Kashuu's presence even now, and he relaxes a tiny bit.]

So that's quite weird and unusual behavior, really, and just about anything should seem normal compared to that. It's just that it still feels weird that "normal" was being convinced I was in love with you. [And with Yamato, but if he ignores that hard enough, maybe his brain will actually self-destroy that part of it that holds that memory and never let it surface again.]

Yeah, that part definitely wasn't impressive.

[He still remembers the way Souji had started out their conversation before things had spiraled down into a k-drama, okay. HE REMEMBERS THAT AWFUL INNUENDO. If he was ever going to shack up with anyone, it sure wouldn't be someone who went easymode route and made sword puns, okay.

But he'll reach out and ruffle Souji's hair someone roughly, like he's perhaps trying to distract him from his own embarrassment. There, there... Too bad brain bleach still isn't a thing even hundreds of years into the future.]

None of these things ever make sense, right? And CERES makes stuff really weird on purpose, so. [So! That's that, right?! Now they can just ignore it and move on, like true champions of coping.]

[Souji sticks out his tongue at Kashuu because rude, lets see him being a smooth operator considering they probably are not that unevenly matched in the noble art of flirting. Having his hair ruffled makes him laugh-squeak a bit indignantly, but it's followed by a soft little hum as he twists around on his back and gazes up at Kashuu.

He's not sure how to explain the next part. What he'd felt for Kashuu doesn't actually match up with the feeling of "this person is my everything, all other priorities are secondary, they're the reason for my existence and determine my place in the world" which he would automatically assume is the only way to feel about someone you claim to be in love with ~~because he's a complete weirdo~~. Nor does his actual, untampered feelings.

It's more that what Ceres had cooked up and what he actually feels isn't actually that different. Apart from the whole wanting to get in his pants, because he's really not sure how he feels about that at all, thanks. Basically, it's making him consider for the first time ever that there is a sliding scale of loving people, and the whole thing isn't a cut and dry either/or situation. To Souji, who doesn't have the mental capacity to really process shades of grey, the whole matter is kind of daunting and seems incredibly complicated.

Sighing, he slowly untangles from his blanket enough to sit up next to Kashuu, trying to find a way to at least hint at this great big ball of tangled thoughts and feelings.]

I guess what I mean is... it's easy to just say that was all some weird Ceres thing, but does that actually mean that this doesn't feel different and kind of weird now. [And just like that, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Kashuu's cheek. It's rather close to the corner of his mouth, and maybe that would mean it wouldn't be considered entirely a friend kiss, but it would never have made them think twice before.

Nailed it.]

[HE COULD MANAGE BETTER THAN SOUJI!! ...Or that's what he'll adamantly think anyway, because truly, Souji was scraping the bottom of the barrel there for tactics and tries. He may have never actually (intentionally) flirted with anyone before, but he's a child of the river, okay! He knows about these things--!

Just like how he kinda sorta knows where Souji is coming from, despite the fact that he's intentionally stepping around actually addressing what they're both thinking. It is easy to say it's a CERES thing, and he's trying to push them both in that direction because... well, that's the fastest way to get the problem behind them, right? If they can just blame it on something else and move on, they don't have to reflect too hard on any of the stilted strangeness that wasn't caused by the library.

That's what Kashuu hopes, anyway, but SOUJI ISN'T MAKING IT EASY... He understands the example a little better than he'd like to admit, but his expression betrays how flustered he is anyway before he ducks his head a little.]

—It only felt weird 'cause you said something beforehand! [You made it weird, Souji!!

Except no, he's been keeping just a little bit more distance than usual too, and he's very mindful of where he is in relation to where Souji is. Clearly he understands that it's kind of different now. A sword and a Souji are probably not the best people to try sorting out this mess, either...]

Geez... [There's a pause, a sigh, and then he reaches forward to pinch Souji's nose.] ...I mean, I kinda get it, but it's not like anything is actually different. [Right?? Maybe that's the problem.]

[No matter how many levels of Weird that are piled in between the two of them, the fact that Kashuu is incredibly dear and precious to him doesn't change. So that flustered face brings on a warm little smile and a laugh, even though Souji is quite honestly bright pink himself. Kissing someone while knowing that it could actually not be completely innocent is kind of embarrassing, okay.

He reaches out in turn to cradle Kashuu's face in his hand, a slim callused thumb gently following the curve of a delicate cheek bone. He honestly has no idea what he's doing, but all of this still feels completely natural. The confusing part is more why it does, exactly.]

That's what I mean. It doesn't feel that different, right. I mean, apart from me pouting and sighing and trying to look alluring - [He grimaces, shaking his head.] -but that's just weird Ceres behavior. There's a lot of it that wasn't like that, though. And that's what's making me confused, see?

[He ducks his head a bit, still pink.] I mean, I'm not saying we're- I'm not trying to- It's just that I don't know what I feel about all this, that's all. But I don't want us to be avoiding each other either.

[Kashuu is so used to their doubly tactile natures in turn that it still doesn't register that the thumb against his cheek could read as a little too intimate. Seems like he wasn't kidding when he said the kiss was only awkward because Souji specifically pointed it out... Or rather, Kashuu has the same sort of trouble differentiating between types of love, so it doesn't naturally occur to him that something like this could be misread.

Or it didn't, anyway. Now he's stuck in Confused Hell!! Even so, his hand raises, fingers ghosting briefly across the back of Souji's. That's not too far from the norm for him either, even if he's more consciously aware of his actions now.]

You don't have to worry about that. [This comes first and most adamantly. He made a promise, after all, and he intends to keep it even if he dies of embarrassment at the same time...] Just 'cause it's weird right now, I'm not just gonna leave, okay? You're the one who holed yourself up in here, anyway.

[FOR GOOD REASON-- But he goes quiet for a second after that, like he's trying to process what Souji said. And then, carefully:]

Hey... Did you mean what you said, though? I mean, not like that, but-- [Vague hand gestures?! He's bad at this. Romantic love is something he's not equipped to deal with, but if he ignores the mortifying parts and the fact that they're both still confused as hell... Well. It'd be the first time he ever got confirmation that he was loved by his former master.]

I'm the one who did, didn't I? That was pretty silly of me, huh?

[Souji makes a warm, amused little noise, which at least partially covers up his relief as Kashuu confirms that he's not going to leave him. That they're staying with each other, regardless of how much of a mess they might both be, and how little they seem to have any idea at all what they're doing. The knowledge settles over him like warmth, almost a tangible thing, and really, maybe that was all he really needed to know to just calm down at last. He might've made a fool out of himself these last days, but at least he didn't actually ruin anything that truly matters.

At first he doesn't really understand Kashuu's question, though. He blinks, cheeks still flushing again despite the sword clearly clarifying that he wasn't asking about anything like... well, like that. But what is he talking about, then, when he asks if Souji really meant-

Oh.

Souji honestly looks deeply surprised. To him, it's been so every obvious in everything he does exactly how deeply his affection for Kashuu goes. He never said it out loud, not the actual words as such, but it was there in every compliment, every silly gift, every touch, every smile; every apology, every word of forgiveness and understanding, every promise and pledge. It was there as he clung to Kashuu's shirt and begged him to stay because he needed him, too.

That's how he's always done things. Not just because he approaches a lot of emotions in a strangely practical way compared to other people, but also because living in Japan and especially in his time, this rather is the cultural norm. But now... now, of course he realizes that Kashuu is not the kind of person you can just assume understands this, can read it for what it is without being told. He's the very last person to expect that of.

(Rather like Souji, really.)

Keeping his hand on the sword's cheek, he leans in a bit closer, locking their gazes.]

I should have told you before, huh? But of course I love you. I've loved you from the first moment I wielded you, and even more so now I know you. I'm sorry, I- Well, I guess I thought you knew that.

Ex-act-ly! So stop hiding already.

[He reaches out and gives the covers a somewhat petulant tug to emphasize his point, but the silence that follows has some of his energy ebbing away to be replaced by a soft contemplative air.

It's not that Kashuu doesn't get non-verbal cues of love. That's the primary method of communication that he picks when it comes to conveying affection, too - though he's equally as likely to straight up say I love you, I love you given the right circumstances and people, as Haru already knows. He shows it in the way he refuses to leave his precious people alone, or in how he tries so very hard to show that a sword's nature can be human whenever he makes an attempt at understanding those difficult human emotions, or the way he saves someone's favorite food for them, or in how he can list off all of their most well-liked songs by heart. He can pick up similar sentiments when they're presented because of that, which is why he never really needs to hear "I love you" in plainer words, even if he likes that just as well.

But Souji is different.

This Souji isn't the same one that had wielded him during that battle, but their history is shared, regardless. The Kashuu Kiyomitsu that he had brought into Ikedaya had still broken, and knowing that makes it difficult for him to look at these neon signs of love and acceptance and take them at face value. It almost feels like he hasn't done enough to earn it in the end, even if he'll soak up all of that attention as its given. He just doesn't ever examine it too closely so he can pretend not to doubt.]

...I think I did. [Know that already, he means. It's his quiet, eventual response. He presses his fingers against the back of Souji's hand for a second and dips his head, uncharacteristically shy. Now's probably not the best time to ask for confirmation like this?! Things are already confusing enough... BUT. But, it would be impossible for him to deny that it still feels nice.

It's a bit of a double-edged sword, though, since it reminds him of how needlessly cruel he's been to Souji after his death. His uncertainties and fears always manifest in ugly ways, and the sharp tongue-lashings that he never really means are no different. But instead of addressing that now (though he considers it, briefly) and instead of returning the words as he's tempted to (does Souji know that he's loved, too?), Kashuu shifts gears instead.]

But there's a lot of stuff I don't know, yeah? Like - y'know, I never knew why you picked me. I never even knew how you got to where you were. You were pretty young to be an active samurai.

[Yes, Kashuu exists as much in the world of action and affirmation and words without words as he does. Souji can read oh so very much from the way people act toward him, and he practically lives and flourishes on it. When it comes to some people he cares about, well, he could write several books about what each interaction implies - or he could if he was the least bit academical in nature, at least, and if his hand writing wasn't such a mess.

But even so, they are both creatures tried and broken in different ways. Even if it's easy to pick up every little thing that others give, even if that is how you yourself express your love for others, the question sometimes still persist. Because deep down, there's the sensation of not being worthy. Of only being deserving as long as they can prove themselves in some way, and that the exchange must always be equal and exact. And how can unconditional love exist, then, when there's nothing that can ever weigh equally to something like that?

It's why Souji still fears outstaying his welcome at home, becoming a burden and useless. Because he can't reconcile the love he gets with the thought of no longer being able to deserve it somehow, and so a life where he's not of use is a life without love. And until this idea is challenged out loud, until he's given definite proof that he is more than the sum of what he can do for others, the future remains dark and frightening.

Kashuu, though... he doesn't actually need Souji to fight to be of use. What Kashuu needs from him is simpler than that, and it exists in the words he just said, and his hand on his cheek, and especially in the tears Souji remembers from when they first met. It's something Souji will be able to give no matter how sick he gets, and it takes an enormous eight off his soul. Here, he'll always be important. It almost feels like a betrayal of his home to know this, to take comfort in it, but he can't help it. All he's ever wanted is to be needed, as he was promised all those years ago.

And here's Kashuu, asking about what happened back then, even if he doesn't know it. Souji makes a soft little noise, somewhere between laughter and a sigh.]

Well, I am a prodigy, after all. [His tone is gently teasing, but he follows it up with a small shake of his head.] Mm, but that's not the whole truth.

Did you know... you weren't actually the first blade I wielded in battle, to kill? That happened long before I even picked you up.

[This kind of narrow, determined reliance probably isn't very good for either of them in the end - it certainly has the strong potential to become unhealthy, anyway - but Kashuu needs someone to lean on about as much as he needs others to need him. He's not a human with the mentality of an object as Souji is; he's an object trying to learn how to view himself as something slightly more human, and that's difficult in an entirely different way. He just can't divorce himself from the notion that he should be of use, that he should be necessary, and the only thing that he was taught about importance is that he has to strive for perfection because anything less gets scrapped.

In the same way that Souji feels like this is a betrayal, Kashuu isn't entirely happy with it either. After all, he'll have to go back home sooner or later. Once he's there, he'll need to ensure that Souji dies over and over again, no matter how many times they have to go to the past or how many times this Souji tells him in the present that he's loved. Open affection in this situation is, quite frankly, not well-suited for his line of work.

...But he only smiles in the end, a quick burst of happiness on his face before he tries to tamp down on it again. The reassurance is too nice to let go of for now.]

Eh, seriously? [Refocusing on the conversation and sounding mildly incredulous! If it weren't for the ENTIRE AWKWARD AIR they're facing, he'd probably make a joke about being hurt that he wasn't the first, but no... Instead:]

I guess that's not too surprising. I mean, even a prodigy can't pick a sword up and use it as well as you used me. Not that fast, anyway.

[Maybe it really ought to be strange, to find a place where he fits right in - not because it's his home, the place where he belongs, but because he finds himself in perfect tune with everyone around him. Just like him, they have their purpose, and they've shaped themselves around it. And... well, they're swords. Maybe that ought to be worrying, but the thought is peaceful somehow. He really isn't all that different from them, is he?

Now he laughs a bit before replying, shooting Kashuu an amused glance.]

Well, of course I'd trained a great deal before picking you up. But that's not exactly what I meant.

[He falls quiet, his hand traveling along Kashuu's cheek and starting to fuss with his hair as he tries to find the right words. Still, there is the awareness that every single touch could mean something else, but his preoccupation with the subject pushes it aside. To this day, he actually hasn't talked about what happened in the forest that day, and everything that led up to it. He never even told Kondou, not his sister, not anyone. Not the whole thing - and Hijikata had kept quiet about it as well. It was as if the whole thing was something private, almost sacred, and letting others know and seeing their reactions would somehow take away from it.]

When I was little, maybe... three, perhaps? Three or four... [He shakes his head, the memory almost nonexistent on his part, learned more through what he'd overheard from others.] A samurai saw me playing with my toy sword, and staring at his. And for a joke, he told me that if I fought him with my tiny toy sword, he'd give me his own to keep. I, ah, took it seriously. [It almost feels like talking about someone else, in a strange way.]

My sister said I came walking with the sword in my arms, as proud as anything after beating a grown man senseless with a wooden sword. My father set out to return it to that samurai or his family, but... he never returned.

Edited 2015-12-19 21:37 (UTC)

[Likewise, any potentially misread implications behind their physical closeness fall by the wayside to Kashuu as he just... listens, careful and quiet, like he can understand how important this is to hear without Souji having to say so directly. Of course, he doesn't know that Souji's never spoken of this to anyone before now; maybe he picks up on the subtle way the air shifts, or the gentleness in the fingers that touch his face and hair.

So he sits silently, attention fully focused forward. His hand drops back to his lap where it sits, fingers curled. He lets his head tilt and lean into Souji's hand as it cards through his hair, and there's a definite feeling of contentment before the story really gets rolling.

Well.

Considering the way many samurai had been in that era, he feels as though he knows where this particular story is about to go. The look on his face is nearly blank, but not because he doesn't feel anything about this. He only prompts Souji forward by inclining his head just a little, rather than by saying anything.]

[It's quite surreal, sitting here and putting words to such a personal story, in this small room far away from home. Especially since he'd been holing up in here because he was embarrassed and awkward only a moment ago, and now Kashuu has somehow coaxed him out of that and right into this strange and hesitant storytime session. Honestly, sometimes the effect they have on each other must seem quite amusing to any observer to their interactions.]

We found out later for certain that my father died, and with his last breath he gave the sword to a little boy who had found him on the road. Right then, we only knew that we were parentless and alone in the world. My oldest sister had to take responsibility for us, and married soon thereafter, at fourteen.

[There is a definite distance in Souji's voice as he speaks of being orphaned, because he can't really make himself feel much of anything for parents he doesn't remember. What guilt he still feels is centered around his sisters, and the burden he'd laid on Mitsu in particular.]

Because of what I'd done, they kept me isolated, fearing repercussions. I grew up pretty strange, though I have a feeling I would've been anyway. [He laughs softly.] When I was nine, they decided that I would be safer still if they handed me over to a certain dojo, let them take care of me while I did the chores there and became invisible. That's how I met the heir to that dojo, a kind and thoughtful young man... oh, and his smoking, womanizing and quite disrespectful best friend.

[He grins, eyes fond.]

He picked on me for being such a girly, meek son of a samurai, and I didn't like him at all. But as it turns out, he was the boy my father had given that sword to all those years ago. So when rumor started going around that someone who was the size of a child was going around killing samurai, and that they were looking for a sword with an inscription of a chrysanthemum on the tang, you could say it got him worried. It scared me senseless, because I knew it was coming for me, and I was terrified that I was going to draw down this misfortune on Kondou-san and his family as well. So I ran away into the forest, hoping the thing would come after me and leave them alone.

[He pauses, and he can still remember the terror of the dense, shadowy vegetation all around him, the sounds of wildlife large and menacing to a sheltered and already frightened child. Needing a point in the now to focus on, he runs his thumb over one of Kashuu's earrings, eyes on the soft shifting of light over the gold surface.]

Of course the two of them ran after me. Kondou-san got stuck fighting some outlaws that worked for the creature hunting me, and Hijikata-san and I ended up alone with it. I... [He shakes his head slowly.] I still don't know if it had started out human or not. It was my size, but powerful, and it seemed like the only thing that drove it was to finally fight and kill me so it could take back that sword. And I don't think it's a coincidence that we ended up right by the place where Hijikata-san had hidden it. So when he was hurt too badly to fight the creature, I had been digging it out for him, and... what was I supposed to do? I couldn't let that thing kill anyone else instead of me.

So I fought it. And I killed it.

[WHAT'S WITH THESE SOUJIS AND THEIR WEIRD SUPERNATURAL BULLSHIT--

Which is to say, that's not what Kashuu had expected at all, obviously. He had assumed that the samurai, offended by being beaten by a child, would have exacted revenge against Souji's father. If the story continued on with Souji avenging his father in turn, Kashuu wouldn't have been surprised. That sort of thing is all too common among humans, after all - the cyclical give and take of losing something and forcing others to lose things in turn.

But that's an unexpected twist, and though he listens raptly, it's clear from the furrow at his brow and the way his lips turn downward that he has some brief difficulties parsing it. Still, some parts of the story ring the same, as Kashuu remembers. Mitsu had married young. She stopped by the Shiekan sometimes, but Souji was largely left on his own. His relationship with Kondou had been good; it had been harder to read what he felt about Hijikata. Those things are all the same.

But the sword itself, and the thing coming after them... He thinks to the tsuba of his own blade, to the tsuba of Yamato's, to their crests that reflect Souji's. Chrysanthemums, huh?

As the story continues, tension seems to grow in him, and even though "I killed it" should be a good resolution... Kashuu can't help but feel uneasy.]

Hey... What happened after that? Did you ever figure out where that thing came from, or why it wanted that sword?

[It is a pretty outlandish story, and Souji still isn't sure what to think about it. Had the creature really just been an insane human, twisted by the need for revenge and turned into a monster by a child's imagination? But even discounting the childlike stature and the unnatural strength, he remembers that fixed grin and those eyes that seemed almost to glow in the gloom. No, he can't bring himself to believe it was a mere human being he faced back then.

He shakes his head, his expression distant, as he once again feels the jagged rocks shifting underneath his feet, the stickiness of blood drying on his skin, hears Hijikata's strained breathing and then, bursting out of his own throat like sickness from a wound, a thin and helpless wail of despair.]

No, we didn't. Before anyone else arrived, Hijikata-san... [He makes an embarrassed little sound, looking away awkwardly.] Well, he smashed the sword against a rock. Sorry. [It makes him wince, because it seems like a terrible thing to talk about with any sword spirit, let alone one that was shattered himself and still keenly feels the wound that left on him.] I think it's what my father wanted him to do right away back when he gave it to him. But Hijikata-san was a little boy who desperately dreamed of being a samurai even though he was a farmer's son, you know? How could he bring himself to break something so beautiful, something that was supposed to be forbidden for him but now was his? He couldn't do it. Not until breaking it meant he was keeping me safe.

...Anyway, in a sense, he found a new sword that day.

Edited 2015-12-20 08:27 (UTC)

[It's not as bad as hearing "I smashed it against a rock", at least... But there's a definite sense of vague discomfort. Kashuu knows what it's like to break, so even though the sound of this sword makes him feel uneasy, it's just as hard to ignore the pang of empathy that flits through him.

He moves on quickly, since that's nothing he particularly wants to linger on.]

So that sword was probably no good. [As in - the sword itself sounds like the sort of thing that brought misfortune. ...Then again, people thought the same of Tsurumaru too, and that hadn't been true at all. Ah, being a sword makes this complicated and so he ollies right out of that entire part of the conversation in general.]

...The new sword was you, right?

[Souji will respectfully leave that part of the converstation be, not commenting on whether he thinks the sword was bad or not. Honestly, though, he can't say that he thinks any blame really attaches to the blame itself. It was Souji's mistake when he was a child that created that creature, and the sword was only a vessel for its hatred, really. In the hands of its original owner it would probably never have brought misfortune... unless, of course, the misfortune it brought had been Souji. But that seems far-fetched to him somehow.

He nods in response to Kashuu's question instead.]

Yes. I was... really scared once I'd killed that thing. I'd made all these bad things happening because I was born with a skill for hurting people. My sisters had tried to keep me from that sort of thing, but now I'd killed I was sure it was never going to stop. I was a monster, and everyone would know it and no one would love me again.

[As a grownup, it shouldn't be so hard to say these words, to face the horror that had stalked his childhood nightmares, but it is. He never quite left it behind - it just started wearing a different mask with time.]

I was crying a lot, and I guess Hijikata-san didn't really know what to do or how to calm me down, but after a moment...

[He halts, because this really feels like exposing the very core of his being, and such a private thing is not easy to do. But if he trusts anyone to hear this, it's Kashuu.]

He asked me if I wanted someone to need me. I said yes. He said- He said he'd be a powerful one day, that there were things he needed to do. He said that if I trained hard, became stronger than anyone else, and promised never to cry in front of him and Kondou again... [His voice softens into reverence, longing, awe, love, loss - all these things and more beside.] ...he would always need me.

[He's glad to leave the former topic behind, because this in and of itself is so very much to deal with, to take in, to process. It's not that it's exactly new, even though it's the first time Kashuu is hearing it from Souji. So many of the underlying sentiments there ring familiar to him that it would be impossible, entirely impossible, to hear this without strongly empathizing. That's all Souji ever wanted in the end, isn't it? To have a place where he would always be needed. In the moment he hears that, it's like everything else clicks into place; like every stray sentence, remark, comment, question that had been leading to this exact admission finally gets there, and the light of understanding hits him.

After a second, he reaches forward and his fingers sweep under Souji's eye as if there are still tears there to catch. His skin is dry, of course, but he still treats it as though it isn't.

(That's another thing that makes sense now - that hesitance Souji's always shown before letting himself cry, and even that's only happened twice.)]

So that guy gave you a home. [Because that's what a home is in the end, isn't it? A place where you'll belong no matter what.] ...And you didn't have to worry about that stuff anymore, right? About people treating you badly or not being loved, 'cause he'd be there for you.

[Though he can also read where Souji's fears come from regarding his sickness now, too. Something that had been meant as a reassurance could easily turn into a delicate promise with wording like that; instead of "you're okay, you're fine, stop crying", it could become "you won't be needed if you can't fulfill these terms."

[And this, he knows, is why he can tell Kashuu about this. Because Kashuu will know without further explanation just how deeply this goes, will know all the complicated aspects from how narrow and focused the striving to be needed can get, centered around those who now determine your worth with their love, to how brittle such an existence is. Be strong, don't cry, always be of use, always be there - be beautiful, be perfect, be whole, never falter. They're the same thing, really. And under such stipulations, failure is always one labored, scraping breath, one single hairline crack away.

Souji captures Kashuu's hand in his and presses his lips against his wrist, right above the flutter of his pulse, not caring if this is too intimate a gesture between them now. He wants to express his gratitude to Kashuu for understanding, for being just like him in some ways, but he doesn't know how to turn it into words without them sounding awful, so this is all he manages.]

Yes, that's how it was. He'd watch me train at the Shiekan, and suddenly the bad things I could do were actually good. They were a talent, if I used them right. If I did it for him - for them - it had to be good.

[He looks up at his sword, who wears battle as effortlessly and gracefully as he does, the sword he helped shape.] That's why, as soon as I took you in my hands, I was so eager to use you to kill. As many as possible, really. I didn't enjoy it - the first times I did I wanted to cry and throw up, but I couldn't do that. I'd promised. And I would get praised and know I'd furthered the goals of those I served. That was wonderful enough that I learned not to feel anything while killing, and never regret it after.

[His mind is so deep in this topic that it doesn't even register to him that he could be dreadfully embarrassed by the gesture. No, it's all too easy to fall back on the way he usually sees it - a physical showing of the understanding they share. He's not good at words, either; he understands. Of course he understands. As Souji's lips touch the wrist of one hand, his opposite hand rises, fussing lightly with his hair and tucking some behind his ear. It's the same sort of mindless gesture meant to anchor concentration that Souji had turned to when he touched Kashuu's earring.]

Being able to protect the people you love is good.

[And as a sword, of course he understands that killing must be done sometimes in order to do that. But it hits a little too close to home, hearing something like that. He'd spent so long trying to distance himself from Souji that the stunning, repetitive reminder that he was shaped by that former master hurts, in a way. It's painful and bizarre to hear Souji talk about killing like that, to recall his own words - Obviously! Who would love a sword that can't kill? - when Nagasone had complimented his wild vigilance in battle, and then to realize just where those words had come from.

Of course killing is important for a blade. A blade that can't cut well enough to kill is a blade that's useless in battle, bound to be discarded. A blade that can kill well, on the other hand, will be needed and used and important to its wielder, like an extra hand. Something they can't do without. He pulls his hands back perhaps a little too abruptly, feeling something knot up in his throat.]

...If you were important to them like that, it's not a bad thing, right? [Ah, something about that seems strange and off and not the way humans should be at all, but his mentality as a sword makes it difficult for him to look at those statements and say that is extremely unhealthy.]

And if you could make it so killing didn't hurt you anymore, that's not bad, either. ...You're good, y'know? You were a good master and you're a good human, and I think deciding to use your skills to help the ones you love is where you showed the world what kind of person you are.

It's not a bad thing.

[He echoes the words softly. He doesn't follow Kashuu as he pulls away a bit, he's used to loving those who sometimes need to withdraw to deal with their emotions, and he's more than happy to give him that space. He knows now, after all, that Kashuu will come back again, that if he backs off it's not to shut Souji out.

He is about to argue that it's just as selfish as it's kind. You could call it learning to defend those you love, or you could call it learning to kill so that you'll be loved and accepted. The latter doesn't sound so pretty. But he doesn't want to try to twist Kashuu's words around in a way of condemning himself, not really. So he doesn't.]

I tried to find other ways of being loved, being useful. I tried to take care of people, to make us all into something like a family. But that never changed that we are all kept together by the fact that we are Shinsengumi. [And he doesn't have the sort of mind that can figure out that while this is true, his value outside of just wielding a sword has grown into something that makes him irreplaceable, no matter how sick and weak he grows. Or why his mindset tortures the one he wants to help so badly.]

... What about you, though? [The thought suddenly strikes him, and he feels like he has to know.] You were forged long before I was even born, after all. And... well, from what I understand it, not in a very nice place. [Which was no doubt a reason why he ended up with Souji, a talented but not exactly wealthy samurai.] There's more to you than just having been my blade, right?

[There's a soft hum from him, and it's one of understanding even though what Souji really needs to hear is the reaffirmation that he does have worth outside of battle, that his home will be his home no matter what changes about him because he is, at his core, an important person.

But he doesn't have the words necessary to say things like that, nor does he have the emotional aptitude to even realize that he should be saying that. His thoughts are too similar even here, after all; when the war he's fighting in is over, everyone will go their own ways regardless of how strong their bonds are, because that's the only thing really keeping them together. (He also doesn't realize that he's just as wrong about this as Souji is about his own self-worth assumptions.)

Still, quietly and after a hefty pause:] It must hurt a lot. [Which is incredibly vague, but he'll reach forward again (because Souji's assumption was right, of course) and rest the tips of his fingers against his chest, right over his heart. A second later he traces a path around the shape of human lungs, coming to a stop at the dip between his collar bones.

"Your sickness must hurt you, if you don't think you have any other way of being useful."

He always understood that it was a great burden to Souji, of course, but this takes it out of the books he'd read impassively and makes it hard to bear.

And then there's that question, and Kashuu glances away briefly like he's preemptively ashamed.] Mm... Serving you was the most exciting part back then. Nothing else is really worth talking about since it was just a lot of waiting. Lots and lots - I waited longer than my smith lived, see? But I didn't leave the river until you were there. Not for anything that mattered, anyway.

[He doesn't have to say "yes", because it's not really a question, and what else could he possibly say. Yes, and it feels like the sickness gathering in his lungs is like a physical manifestation of all the ugliness inside him. The part of him that refuses to accept that this is how it has to be, he has to be forgotten and left behind because he no longer serves a purpose. The part that resents his fate, his own body, even the people he loves because they'll have to leave him. That wants them to grieve, to miss him, to realize that they still need him.

The part that made him ask for a gun to end it all with, as if Hijikata wouldn't understand what he meant. Had he done that just to hurt him? To see the color drain from his face as the realization struck him, to force him to deny Souji a quick end so it would be his fault - like everything else is his fault, in his mind.

Who does that to someone they love? Who wants people to keep needing them, when they know they're dying?

No, he won't talk about pain now. Instead he will allow himself to be fascinated by the being that is Kashuu, smile tenderly at the sight of him looking almost ashamed of his origins.]

That's kind of what I was told. That you were most likely an untested blade, too hard to use for anyone who would've laid their hands on you before. That I ought to go for something safer for my first blade, because gambling on an unknown quantity was stupid even for me.

[He reaches up and lifts Kashuu's chin, looking as if he's admiring him every bit as much as he had the slight curve of his blade, the sharp line of his edge back then.] And I thought of a farmer's son bitterly asking me why I had to be a samurai, when I didn't even want to fight, and understanding then why he'd been so mean to me before. So maybe if I cut myself on you at first, or got hurt in battle because you were hard to wield, it would kind of be the same thing. But that didn't mean that you didn't deserve a chance as well.

[Another unfortunate shared trait, then - the fear of that underlying ugliness, the rot that they both try to shove away because it's something no one else should see. No one else should have to see it. Kashuu in particular doesn't want anyone to see it, because it's far from the beauty he strives for and he simply can't have that, not at all.

That's why he never goes in depth when he discusses his past. He mentions his origins, of course, because that can simply be read in a history book and it would look weak and awful if someone found out he was hiding that. They would know it bothered him, then. But if he owns it, announces it proudly, casually says things like I'm a child of the river, you know, no one would ever be able to tell. It's why he doesn't say anything directly now either, even though he can't stop the way his eyes dart to the side when Souji lifts his chin and examines him like one might do with his vessel. He's suddenly afraid that a close look will reveal too much of that stain, the stigma of kegare that sticks to everything from the dry riverbeds, and he very nearly pulls away.]

...They weren't really wrong to warn you.

[Souji's words are kind, though, and his hand is warm as ever. Kashuu's eyes flit back to his face without any coaxing needed. ...Normally, he shies away from everything having to do with these topics, but that would seem almost insulting after everything Souji had just said, so:]

I mean, a whooole bunch of samurai tested me out. My smith wasn't bad even if he lived in that place, so a lot of people wanted his swords, but not just anyone who's swung a blade before could wield me right. He'd tell everyone but- [A sloping shrug.] -no one really listened. "This blade is hard to wield, but has great payoff", things like that. And then they wouldn't even be able to cut through one straw dummy with me and they'd get so mad, and they would blame it on him, see? Because of course some dirty hinin smith would only be able to craft a sword that can't cut.

[And that's the way things had always been, as Kashuu remembers them. The people he had grown into conscious being with were extreme outcasts. Though Kiyomitsu managed to make a name for himself, Kashuu still remembers seeing people from their village walking through the streets on errands and normal citizens parting like the sea for them, as though they were diseased, spoiled, tainted. He glances away again.]

...So when you picked me up that first time, I wasn't really expecting much. But— but it was you, you know? It was only you. In all those years, you were the only one who was ever able to wield me properly. I didn't know where you came from or why you were looking for a sword or who you were fighting with or what you were fighting for, and I didn't care because you were the only one. So... if they were telling you not to try and you did anyway, I need to thank you.

[Because up to that point, Souji was the best thing he had in his life.]

Edited (I WASNT DONE YEEET) 2015-12-20 15:20 (UTC)

[Souji isn't normally a very prideful being. He's never seen a point in posturing or bragging, because his worth has never been determined by how good others think he is. All that matters is being able to do what he's ordered to do. But now he lifts his own chin a bit, a hint of his sharp battle smile visible for a flicker of a second, and his tone of voice seems almost to mimic Kashuu's own cocky lilt - not in mockery, but almost like a tribute.]

It's not your smith's fault if they weren't skilled enough to see your potential.

[Then his smile softens again, and his heart does a rather strange thing he can't quite put a name to. In this moment, he truly is proud; proud that his own skill really wasn't just self-serving when it allowed the child of the river to show his worth, show that those who came before had been wrong to dismiss him. The way Kashuu speaks of him spreads like warmth in his chest, because the crying, bloodstained child inside him recognizes every word, and how much something like that means. To have someone see the worth in you, when you feel as though all anyone has ever seen is flaws and failings.

Impulsively, he leans closer. He's not sure if what he does counts as a kiss, it doesn't expect anything back or tries to initiate anything the way it was when he was... confused. It's just his lips bumping softly against Kashuu's, affectionate and warm, followed by a small laugh.]

As I need to thank you, Kashuu Kiyomitsu. I couldn't have wielded a more perfect sword. It felt as if you were made for my hands.

[Kashuu can tell that it isn't in mockery at least, and his lips quirk upward in turn. Besides, Souji deserves to be prideful with skill like his. His own pride is partially centered around this first person (and the only person, so far) to wield him so well, so hearing that makes him smile for more than one reason.]

I know that now.

[Maybe a small part of him had started to wonder if it really was a flaw inherent in himself, at first. After all, so many years of people trying and failing to use him properly had certainly set a precedent, but... no. No, he was just made to be wielded by a truly talented someone, and that someone had without a doubt been Souji.

Likewise, the brief touch against his lips isn't mentally noted as a kiss, because this is closer to the expressions of affection that he's used to. There's no demand behind it, no expectations, just a connection, a way of saying I'm here, I understand. He appreciates that understanding, even if he doesn't ever say so in words. He needs that understanding more than he'd like to admit, but it's fine, because Souji isn't wrong. It felt as though he'd been waiting two hundred years just for him; if Souji feels a reflection of that, it's enough. He doesn't press his lips back, but he does slide forward onto Souji's blanket pile, curling his arms around his former wielder with an almost-delicate care. His cheek brushes against Souji's before his chin nestles easily against the crook of his neck.]

...Thanks. [And then, quieter still, meant just for the ear his mouth is next to:] Thank you, Souji. [For so, so much.

And you know? It's nice being able to say "thank you" instead of "I'm sorry" for once.]

[Souji returns the embrace without hesitation, pressing his face against the side of Kashuu's neck, which is why his surprised little exhale is mostly muffled against the skin there. He hadn't quite registered that he'd never heard Kashuu address him by name before until the shock of hearing him do so makes him actually think about it. Somehow, it feels like a gift, a token that they've overcome something, and he finds himself wondering how many times Kashuu has said it at all since Haru gave him a physical form.

Gently nuzzling Kashuu's neck to assure him that his reaction doesn't mean that anything is wrong, that he's happy - and trusting that Kashuu will ubderstand at least a part of what he means - he reflects that maybe it doesn't matter what they feel for each other. If there really is more like a scale of different kinds of love, rather than rigidly fixed absolutes, then all kinds of love have to be equal, in a way. So if they keep acting like they want and doing what they want, then they can't really do anything wrong, can they? And maybe eventually they can stop being embarrassed by things and especially not have to think too hard about feelings, since none of them enjoy that. It sounds like a great plan to him.

Giggling quietly, he pointedly tries to tip them both sideways so they can lie down next to each other, wrestling with Kashuu if he tries to resist. He may be malnourished and weaker than Kashuu, but he's not above tickling to get his way.]

I'm really pretty lucky. I mean, me and Haru must've been lucky to have such inspired taste when it came to you, when we both like awful sweaters, right?

[Luckily for both of them, he won't meet too much resistance when he brings them both toppling over like a card stack. He folds really fast when the tickle guns are brought out... Besides, Kashuu feels strangely tired after talking, even though his manifested body isn't run-down or exhausted so he knows he doesn't actually need to sleep. It's warm here, and he finds himself shifting and curling right up against Souji as soon as they've hit the blankets.

...This is nice, isn't it? He remembers the day he'd met Souji again and for the first time, months ago at that ball, and how he'd cried and felt an acute sense of dread because he realized that things couldn't magically be fixed just because they could speak to each other here. It had been an awful, hopeless feeling. But now? This slow mend - he's realizing that it's better than a quick fix. Taking each step toward actual healing is an excruciatingly slow process, but that makes every hurdle overcome an even larger triumph.]

Geez, when you say it like that, I feel like the lucky one. It's a good thing your bad taste didn't get in the way when you both picked me out!

[Which he says teasingly now, but he already knows that Souji understands his endless gratitude. To Haru especially, since he wears it so openly, but now he should at least be able to see that Kashuu held him in the same high regard and is still incredibly grateful to him, even if their past became complicated and painful.]

...Hey, I'm gonna stay here for now, okay? And don't hide away when Yasusada comes back tonight either. Even if you were all weird, that guy still wants to be near you all the time. I guess he's pretty weird too though, so. [A SHRUG. As if Kashuu is free from the Weird Gene™...]

[Lazlily sinking into one big tangle on the bed, Souji laughs fondly and uses the tip of Kashuu's ponytail to tickle his nose.]

Well, even hopeless people like us can recognize a masterpiece when we see one, so that's probably the reason.

[Shameless flattery, but he knows Kashuu is probably the last person inte world to mind that sort of thing. And since he enjoys saying things like that, it kind of works out, doesn't it?

He gives Kashuu a look of unabashed fondness as he remembers to look out for Yamato as well, as Souji had been sure he would. For all that he repeatedly complains about the other sword, or takes a shot at him when opportunity is given without remorse, and usually seems mildly exasperated about his entire existence... well, Souji knows that when it really matters, both of them have each others' backs, and he's happy about that. He would've felt guilty if either of them resented the other, most likely.]

Of course. I'd never want to hurt his feelings, and it's not his fault I got like that.

...Even if some of the things I remember thinking make me want to turn my brain inside out and scrub it clean.

[In a way, this kind of implies that thinking things like that about Kashuu doesn't feel as incredibly creepy and wrong, and that's because it didn't. It makes sense, because there is something childlike about Yamato that Kashuu definitely lacks, and an implicit trust and pliability toward Souji that makes the whole thing seem much more unpleasant. That doesn't exactly make the Kashuu-centered thoughts wanted now, especially since remembering about them will infallibly turn him bright pink and make him want to apologize profoundly, but at least that's all they do.

With a sudden grin, he adds:]

But I guess a child of the river won't get too shocked by anything like that.

[He tucks his face against Souji's chest to escape his own hair, making a small sound of not-actually-irritated irritation.]

Eh, now you're being too nice. [Which is said with ABSOLUTELY NO COMPLAINT... Seriously, he really is the last person in the world to mind that sort of thing. He's never actually been called a masterpiece before by anyone but his smith, so it makes him feel a little giddy and he has to tuck his face away so his dumb expression doesn't show.

As far as Yamato goes, he seems satisfied by that answer and nods once in response. Sure enough, as much as Kashuu complains and gripes and acts harried whenever the task of babysitting falls on his shoulders, the truth is that he wouldn't know what to do with himself without his mirroring sword. He takes care of Yamato and in turn, Yamato is always taking care of him, so they've built up a strange sort of reliance that sometimes isn't entirely healthy, but that Kashuu is satisfied with nonetheless. This seems to just be a reoccurring problem with Okitagumis...]

Good, good. He's definitely the kinda moron who'd start blaming himself if he thought something was wrong with you. [A SIGH. Yamato, why...

And then he blinks upward, looking a little surprised. ...Well, he's said pretty much the same thing himself before, hasn't he? So, in a tone that he'd definitely be flipping his hair with if he was sitting upright:]

Ex-act-ly! It'd be hard to fluster me. [As if he wasn't just flustered.]

[It's not like Souji can't tell that Kashuu is flustered and happy by that compliment, and even as he pets his hair and curls his other arm around him, he resolve to call him a masterpiece more often. It's nice to see him make happy faces, nice to watch him trying to cover his feelings by acting all casual about it, and in a strange way makes Souji giddy as well. Honestly, he's never as happy as when he's lavishing attention on someone he cares about.

He hums in agreement at the assessment of Yamato, gazing up at the ceiling contemplatively.]

He does spend a lot of time second-guessing himself, huh? If it wasn't for how alike we are in other ways, I could almost believe he's Hijikata-san's sword, not mine. [He laughs.] Ah, but don't tell himI said that.

[Ah, but why you gotta say it like that, Kashuu? How is Souji, who is never more than a teacup away from outright teasing warfare, going to resist taking that as a challenge? Admittedly, in some ways he is probably pretty innocent by Kashuu's standards, but at least he has the advantage of having lived as a human longer. Now he shifts a bit so he can look squarely into Kashuu's eyes, his smile amused.]

Huh, is that so? I suppose this is fine, then. [It's definitely a kiss this time, lips smacking theatrically against Kashuu's, albeit in a distinctly chaste and almost childishly playful fashion. It's more a symbol of the thing in itself than anything, done with equal parts of fondness and plain being a little shit. Does this count as flirting as well? Who knows, it's still fun.] Or was it weird because I said something?

[What a punk!! When will someone save Kashuu from his dastardly grasp, honestly.

Except no, he wouldn't want that at all... Now that they've managed to re-find footing on somewhat more stable ground, he'll cling to it jealously until the time comes when he absolutely needs to give it up.]

I won't, I won't. [Mostly because Yamato might be hurt by something like that, in the end... Souji means so much to him that it might sound like "you seem like someone else's sword", even if it absolutely wasn't intended as such.

THIS PUNK, THOUGH. Why does he have to up the teasing ante?? At least this is nowhere near as awkward as the library kiss had been, and Kashuu wastes no time in slapping his palm against Souji's forehead to push him away without feeling any guilt for it whatsoever.]

That one was just weird because you're weird!

[Which was really Souji's main concern when he asked Kashuu not to tell Yamato. It worries him at times, the way that sword is so very affected by everything he says, and everything he does not say, and every interaction has to be carefully balanced for that reason. But he also knows that Yamato would probably hate knowing that Souji thinks about it that way, so he tries not to worry about it too much either.

But oh, Kashuu's reaction has him laughing so much that he has to momentarily prop himself up on his elbow and tilt his head forward in an effort to not set of another coughing fit. Regrettably, that's a thing that he can never put out of his mind for long, but right now even that doesn't feel too bad or terrifying, because he knows for certain that here, at least, it won't result in him ending up alone. It's... comforting, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Still giggling between every gasp, he somehow manages to get himself under control, and once more sinks down next to Kashuu, arms twining firmly around him. With a contented little sigh, he bumps the tip of his nose against Kashuu's cheek in a gently apologetic fashion.] Sometimes it's just a bit too easy to tease you. [A small grin.] I'm sure you'll learn how to get me back eventually, though. You just need a bit of practice.

[At least they're both aware of Yamato's Yamato-like tendencies... Part of the battle with that punk is understanding where he's coming from and why he does the things he does, which is certainly a beast of a task to discern at times. Kashuu, for how thoughtless he can often seem, does take a lot of those things into consideration whenever he's deciding what to do or say around Yamato.

But those thoughts quickly slip to the side as THIS PUNK just goes fullspeed ahead trying to earn his punk crown!! Ugh! The laughing-- isn't honestly that bad, okay. In the depths of his tsuntsun heart, he'd admit that it's a lovely thing to hear, even if he's wary of the coughing that might follow as well. So it's with a good-natured and not actually irritated huff that he raises both of his hands and smushes Souji's cheeks between them, like the epitome of maturity...]

I don't need to hear that from you! Any of that! Don't give me pity advice. [Geez!! He pulls his hands away only to tug at some of Souji's hair, ever a petulant brat, and then he tucks himself up right against him again.]

You have waaay too much fun teasing me, y'know? Way too much!

[It sets off another quiet fit of laughter to hear Kashuu speak like that. He can almost hear a terse echo of, Souji... You're having too much fun acting like that behind his words, and it feels safe and nostalgic and melancholic all at once. He supposed, in a way, this is how he knows that a place is home, somehow. It's in Haru scolding him severely, and Yamato's blithe and forthright practicality, Kousetsu's peaceful spirituality, Mikazuki's effortless generosity, Namazuo's solemn kindness... All the motley and bright personalities of the swords and the house guests clashing and mingling, creating something new from familiar parts - or maybe vice versa.

And this, Kashuu, whatever it is they are which he honestly can't make heads or tails of, except that it makes him feel better. Maybe he ought to feel more guilty thinking of home, but it's a feeling he's used to repressing and ignoring, especially when he can't do much about his situation. It's how he's always thought he ought to act, so maybe that's okay.

He leans their foreheads together, stifling a yawn, and gently caresses a silky lock of hair out of Kashuu's face.]You're just going to let me have the upper hand, huh? No wonder I'm having too much fun. Seems like people always end up putting up with my silliness no matter where I go. Just like home.

[It's a little difficult to stay riled up, even in a less than sincere way, when the atmosphere is shifting from terse to comfortable to downright warm. He's more comfortable here than he ever thought he'd be, especially after the unpleasant reminders of the last few weeks. More comfortable than he should be, really, but... it's fine for now, isn't it? Enjoying that comfort for just a little longer should be fine.

So he's pouting but he's not moving away, and he lets their foreheads rest together, lets Souji push hair from his eyes, and doesn't think about anything less pleasant that might detract from how cozy he's feeling.]

I'm not giving you the upper hand on purpose. [Which is only a partial untruth...! There definitely is something about this punk that makes it too easy to fold, though.] Or maybe I am just to be super nice! So you shouldn't like, end up depending on it or I'll be able to feint you out.

["Make like a feint then attack", you know?? He'll do it, don't test him! ...Or he'd do it if it wasn't so much effort, anyway. Everything but tucking his head beneath Souji's chin and draping an arm over his side seems like too much effort right now, though.]

Oh, I see. Even though you used to be my sword, you're a great tactical thinker, is that it?

[Souji is starting to sound pretty drowsy, his words half muffled against Kashuu's hair. Flailing around a bit, he finds a pillow and tucks it behind him, to make sure he won't end up flat on his back if he drifts off. It's not entirely comfortable, but it's better than waking up because he can no longer breathe, which is what usually happens when he sleeps on his back without any elevation - especially since Kashuu sometimes ends up half on top of him.

When he wakes up again, he knows that all the strange tension between them won't have magically gone away, and there will still be moments when the intimacy between them feels like maybe it borders on the unknown and potentially intimidating. It's only easy not to think of something when you don't know that you shouldn't, right? But if they've decided to preserve whatever it is they have regardless, that means they're accepting whatever it might become, and also whatever it might not... right?

That's complicated. Is Kashuu asleep? Maybe he'll pretend he is, just so he can say it one more time without feeling embarrassed.]

...I love you.

Of course! I'm good at all kinds of stuff like that.

[Which is a meandering, vague thing to say, but Kashuu's affected by Souji's drowsiness and it's starting to get too hard to string words together in an even remotely intelligent way. He shifts away a little as Souji rearranges their blanket nest to give him room - he never really means to end up sprawled partially over him, okay - and makes a small noise of contentment. He also knows that things won't magically be fixed, just like they weren't magically fixed when he first showed up in Cerealia or how they were still a little stilted and strange after that promise they made, but this is still fine. One step at a time, right? One step at a time. If they meet any more hurdles in the future, they can deal with it as it comes, as they've done every time before.

Kashuu isn't entirely asleep by the time Souji says that, but he's drifting in that pleasant state of semi-consciousness that makes it hard to focus, hard to parse what's being said. But he understands the warmth of those words, and even though he'd just heard them, it still fills him with a sense of purpose and belonging. I love you is such a simple thing, but it's all he ever really wants in the end. When he heard it from Haru for the first time, he was almost afraid that he might cry. Hearing it from Souji is different, more complex for many reasons, but there's no denying that it makes him just as happy.

He doesn't return them just yet; not verbally, anyway. He only curls closer still, fingers tangled up in fabric and Souji's hair, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as it beats away inside of his chest. It may not be as strong as it could be, and it certainly won't last forever, but he'll treasure it even more now, while he has the chance.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[CLOSED] Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk?

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TW BREAKING SWORDS tbh

why does souji do these things

don't kinkshame

STOP BREAKING SWORDS AND IT WONT BE A PROBLEM

YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF HIM also haha keywords...

when will souji get help tbh LORD...

fix both these losers BRING OUT THE DUCT TAPE

tapes them together, fixed

I'm pretty sure this isn't how shipping is supposed to work ^^;

its what theyre stuck with anyway...

they're that one package with the this side up arrow pointing down and misspelled address...

I MEAN THATS NOT UNTRUE... its a miracle they survived the journey

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