gravesite: (122)
tsurumaru kuninaga ( 鶴丸国永 ) ([personal profile] gravesite) wrote in [community profile] estoria 2016-02-16 12:02 am (UTC)

maybe they can also have mismatched swirly pastas :s

[ he'll stay still, though, keeping his palms upturned to make kashuu's job easier; and watching him work is almost therapeutic, strips of cloth wrapping around his hands over and over and over, in some kind of soothing rhythm. it's sufficiently distracting him from both the content on the mirrors and the content of his own thoughts — left to his own devices for too long, he might disappear into those very thoughts of his, in the way that he does whenever he's alone.

still, his answer to that is simple, spoken quietly. ]


The people that love me the most.

[ and when he looks up at kashuu, his gaze is as empty as his words. ]

It's sad, Kashuu. It's sad. It's so sad — they didn't have to die. It's so sad.

[ they're repeated, in a series of soft whispers — to himself, to kashuu, to himself, but he pauses to recompose himself, just a bit. he'll try to fill kashuu in a bit, but the truth is, his story is long and convoluted and probably very difficult to follow........ ]

As swords, we want to protect our masters. But, tell me this — how do you protect your master's clan from being massacred? What can you do, other than to watch everyone die, without being able to do anything? It wasn't just one person, or two people, or even five hundred people. It was more. One by one, they all...

[ he inhales. ] They all died, Kashuu. I held them, until they weren't warm anymore. And even when I was buried with them, and everything was dark and I couldn't see them anymore, I held them. And even when I could feel them coming apart, I still... I wanted all of them to be with me. I didn't want them to be lonely.

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