[ His nose may not be as sharp as some, but he can always distinguish the scent of people he's crossed paths before. In particular, people whom he had spent a great deal of time with—
The flower viewing has come to a close, and the maniacal machines have ceased its fixation on his hair (how cruel that those "roomba" disks would even consider his fur so messy that it would attempt to devour it)— and so the residents have begun to filter their way back to their homes, he assumes.
&mdash And again, his nose may not be as sharp, but there is one that makes him stop dead in his tracks. Suddenly, there seems to be too many people on the path. Too many heads, and too much muttering, clattering, and bumping shoulders (were there always this many people? Has he been up on the clouds this entire time?). But Kogitsunemaru isn't about to give up on following that scent— he knows it belongs to only Mikazuki Munechika, and just as he's able to make that distinction, the he catches a glimpse of the back of his head - the royal blue sheen and decorative headpiece - and he could have sworn Mikazuki had seen him too.
Or perhaps he imagined it— but Kogi can imagine the crescent in his eyes as they lock gazes, and it would have made sense if Mikazuki had just. Stopped walking away and disappearing further into the crowd.
He doesn't know why this irritates him, but it sends him into a frenzy, pushing past the people who have become too troublesome for him to apologize— and he keeps pushing, shoving, until he thinks he's reached him. Placed a firm grip on his shoulder and gasps out: ] Mikazuki-dono—
[ But this man isn't him. Similar, yes, but it isn't him. Furthermore, the scent upon him doesn't even remotely resemble the whiff he'd caught earlier. So he mutters an apologize at last and lets the confused man go, and he searches again for those golden tassels. Just then, he catches sight of him, perhaps, and he begins moving toward him again... ]
[Of course Mikazuki had seen him. Much like their role in history, Mikazuki continues to exist unseen in the shadows of this world. He is everywhere and nowhere. And when it had become clear that the first group he came here with was not to be the last, that a third group had been found and was on their way, he was there too.
Mikazuki doesn't have the advantage of Kogitsunemaru's sense of smell but he did believe in fate, particular of the portentous variety. The foreboding sense settles around him long before he lays eyes on that silver cascade of hair, warmed by the golden glow of his silk robes. In that moment, Mikazuki realizes there are only two options—that Kogitsunemaru is the very same that he knows, the one that knows the truth about him, and he's dangerous. Or that that he's the Kogitsunemaru of another citadel, another saniwa, maybe even another Mikazuki Munechika that never experienced his betrayal. And he is also dangerous.
He's not so naive to think he can avoid him. The little fox will find his way to the den of swords like all the others. The least he can do is ensure this meeting is on his terms.
The crowd provides the perfect cover to give chase. Mikazuki watches him carefully and the moment he's been noticed, he's gone again. All those aimless days and nights spent lost in the city are given purpose in this very moment. He knows these streets, doesn't even need to think about it for his feet to follow them.
Kogitsunemaru will always spot him just as he's turning a corner, crossing through a shopping arcade, ducking down an alley, and finally, when he's just up ahead, he turns just out of sight and the only thing waiting in his wake is a dead end , devoid of any more life than a passing stray cat.]
[ He can't speak for his vision, but he knows his nose wouldn't fail him. There's no mistaking it, Kogitsunemaru has Mikazuki's scent pinned. He knows it. And yet, he continues to catch glimpses of the royal blue robes.
Now he starts feeling irritation in his heart; he's uncertain if it was purposeful that he's fleeting, or if the fates have ruled they must wait to meet... but he is among the last of the Touken Danshi that he hasn't exchanged greetings. Kogitsunemaru doesn't necessarily even know if Mikazuki is the one he knows, but it doesn't mean that they can't get acquainted, right? Kogi has been hesitant to get too close to the others, but Mikazuki is... different.
He thinks, maybe, just maybe, that they can just enjoy tea together and things will be exactly like home.
When he turns the corner, Mikazuki is gone once again, and as the annoyance begin to build up, he finds himself wanting to scream at the top of his lungs— Luckily for everyone, he doesn't. ]
Where have you ran off to now—? [ And again, a glimpse. This time he was almost too certain that Mikazuki is avoiding him. Almost. But his heart doesn't believe it, makes up excuses for his strange behavior. It didn't... make sense. Could this all be coincidence? Then, he decides to make a run for it, as quickly as his legs can carry him.
[This brings back memories. Ones that are not so far off and not so long forgotten. For too long now, Mikazaki has engaged himself in this game of hide and seek with Kogitsunemaru and just when it had finally promised a conclusion—he'd been so tired that he'd all but asked for it—this happens.
If he's being completely honest with himself, though it pains him, though he had been prepared for it to end with the end of them, he doesn't hate Kogitsunemaru. He loves him the same as he loves Imanotsurugi, Iwatooshi, Ishikirimaru. The bond between them is no tenuous thing, maybe not like the other families of the citadel who speak in such terms, but special to him all the same. But the differences between them in particular were like night and day. They couldn't precisely understand one another. Maybe they never would.
Maybe this was just his curse, to exist in the shadow of the sun, waiting for it to expose him, expand and devour him. But after 1200 years, one of the only ones to make it this long, he's learned a thing or two about self preservation.
Kogitsunemaru's frustration grows ever more palpable and he has the sense that maybe this one isn't his. His would recognize the game by now, wouldn't he? Call him out. Maybe they could laugh about it. With their mission on indefinite hold, maybe he could finally tell everyone here who Mikazuki Munechika really was. And that was something he still wasn't ready to face.
So he'll face his friend instead. As he starts to run, Mikazuki conceals himself among a glowing colonnade, lit up in so many colors it puts their native Shinjuku to shame. He disappears against a backdrop of blue, making a full circle around it, only to come out behind the other sword as he rushes past.]
Ah Kogitsunemaru-dono. Could that be you? [His face feigns the perfect mix of shock and surprise and delight. His smile is only a hint of unsettling in a manner that is not wholly uncharacteristic of him.] Where are you off to in such a hurry?
[ Kogitsunemaru does rush past the colonnade, but he only travels so far as three large steps before he stops. Mikazuki's scent is not beyond there, he decides, and he spins around to pinpoint his scent again. Mikazuki is lost between the traffic of people and scents all around him. As he tries to narrow down his location, Kogi realizes that he's become overwhelmed with sensory overload.
Then, he hears what he thought was chimes— and then Mikzuki's smooth voice.
He's frozen in place, absorbing the scene. His deep crimson eyes meet the crescent of his irises, mesmerized, and it's as though he hasn't seen him for ages.
The tufts on his head warily perks momentarily, then flatten against his head— something is off about Mikazuki, and the only reason being is that he's utterly unreadable. ] Mikazuki-dono, I was...
[ He was looking for him, chasing after him. Had they not met eyes? Was Mikazuki running away, truly? Why has it become so difficult to get a feel of what's going on? But it's no time to flounder. Kogitsunemaru clears his throat and straightens his posture, peering down curiously at the man. ]
I thought I had seen you, so I chased after— [ He shakes his head. ] The Saniwa said you were here, but I feel as though I've only been chasing your ghost. You're everywhere and nowhere...
[ A huff of a laugh, and a mutter: ] How very like you.
[Mikazuki is still watching him now, with an impassive expression, serene like a placid lake during the dog days of summer, hazy in the mirror like reflection that hides some dangers deep. He watches the way those tufts of hair twitch like a skittish fox, the way the cords of his muscles ties up in knots, especially visible along his arm and shoulders and neck.
Mikazuki holds out his arms and floats toward him, seamless as some apparition that is sure to fade away like he's been doing all along. It's less an invitation than it is a gesture of welcome on his terms, exactly as he wanted it.] I'm very glad to hear I continue to live up to your expectations.
[In those crimson eyes, his confusion is written plain and that's all Mikazuki needs to answers his own questions about the identity of this particular Kogitsunemaru. He can't say whether that's a disappointment or not but it is endlessly tiresome to think that this could mean a return to their old chase.
The little fox and the moon bunny. Maybe it's fate.]
Not so glad to hear that I have missed you for this long. [He remains the very picture of effortless serenity, coming to take his place beside Kogitsunemaru.] Come. We should catch up.
[This will be the first of a number of flowers to come but this time Mikazuki will find some lavender tied with a simple pink ribbon. Just a few sprigs of it. There's no note left behind but the message is clear enough as well as who it is from.
After all, that pink ribbon looks exactly like the one a certain someone wears in his hair all the time.
[Mikazuki doesn't reply again because he's already at the front door. Tentatively poking his head through the open crack, half expecting to find Daihannya waiting there for him. When that proves not to be the case, he steps inside and slides it shut behind him, lining up his sandals wherever he can find space among the dozen others.
He's not too perturbed as he mounts the stairs to the second floor next, suspecting that the other sword would be waiting within their room instead but another door opens on little more than the company of setting sun glowing behind opaque shoji paper.
[He smiles when he sees the message and then steps back inside to go to the second floor where he's sure that Mikazuki is. After all, if he's not in the entry...
Spying him, he comes over to deliver a kiss to his cheek.]
Come downstairs with me then close your eyes.
[Slipping his glove off, he reaches out to take his hand.]
[His eyes narrow suspiciously though he doesn't say a word as he's taken by the hand, eye closed before they reach the bottom. He doesn't understand the need for further secrecy but he trusts Daihannya to have his reasons.
His steps slow, pulling back on him just a bit—not enough to stop them—when he starts to make sense of the direction they're going.
And he wonders, does the pulse in his throat transmit along all the veins of all his limbs to the place where he holds on to the other, squeezing faintly tighter.]
[Their path takes them to that courtyard area which has needed work. However, it's been transformed. With the help of the people here and an entire day, Daihannya has managed to transform it into a garden with little bridges to make it easier to see parts of it.
A garden of lotuses and water lilies enjoying the beautiful pond together.
Stepping behind Mikazuki, he releases his hand and settles his own onto his shoulders.]
[He hears it before he see it, the sound of trickling water, the crack of the shishi-odoshi. Then comes the smell and if he really concentrates he thinks he can feel it on the gentle breeze. His shoulders are tense from anticipation and he lifts his hands to cover Daihannya's, taking it as the reassurance he needs before he can open his eyes.
The moon tonight doesn't belong to them but it hangs high in the sky bathing the garden below in a sanguine glow that brings out the brilliant pink and white of the their endless sea of petals. It steals his breath from him, all words and thoughts. Leaving only pure instinct as a guide.
He parts from Daihannya, letting his hands slip away behind him as the whole world, everything outside of this moment, fades away from around him.
His feet carrying him unbidden over the earth that alternates between lush and still dusty in the patches that haven't taken hold, never stopping even as he cross the threshold of the pond. They sink into the mud just inches beneath the brackish waters that bring life to such beautiful blossoms. And he sinks to his knees. The flowers and stems part like the holy seas around him; his fingers finding the spaces between the freshly planted rhizomes. There's little regard for how it soaks through layer upon layer of his blue and white silks. It's where he's always felt he belonged.
Blindly, he tears the gloves from his hands, discards them, losing them instead in the layers of velvet soft petals that sway before him. They are strong and supple and they stand so proudly beneath the light of the moon and he's never been felt so privileged by their presence.
He traces the sepals, doesn't even hesitate to hide his face in one full bloom. What little scent they carry can't be captured like this but it's still enough to send him back, back and before he knows it, before he has a chance to guard against it, there are dew drops falling on them as they fall first from his his cheeks.
It's been so long. Months since he came here. Many more since he was last allowed there and then. And he misses them. Those who would never mourn him. Yasuhira. Yoritomo. Even Yoshitsune, Benkei. It's a deep ache, a hole in his heart so wide he doesn't know how he's ignored it for this long. And never with anyone to share it until now. So instead he'll mourn for himself.
He once told Daihannya that he didn't have a favorite flower and he hadn't been lying. For the lotus doesn't just bring him joy. It brings sorrow and anger and pleasure and fear and regret. It arcs through as many human emotions as there are petals on it's stem. As many as he thinks must exist in the world that is so new and fragile and fleeting as a flower.
[There is a great deal happening here. He doesn't know the full story behind it but he does know that it's powerful. It moves him to let Mikazuki have his moment with the lotuses as the water lilies float around him almost as if offering their own comfort. Much like himself. Always floating nearby to be there next to him as he stands tall and proud and beautiful.
He smiles a little, not stopping the other as he sinks into the water. There's something truly beautiful about the moment and how private it is, his new silver tail gently swaying behind him.
It's several minutes before he approaches him, gently stepping into the water so he can sink down next to him, fingers reaching out to brush one of the lilies as it floats near him. He doesn't ask about what Mikazuki is feeling. He doesn't speak at all. All he does is linger near him like these lilies.
He'll be here for as long as Mikazuki needs him to be.
[The sky turns dark, only the moon and fading westernmost glow remaining the source of any significant light in the sky. The stars start to come out, limning the heavens in their otherworldly constellations. If it were any other season the waters would have turned a chill on them but they remain now as warm as the long departed sun, a languid embrace to take solace in.
As he releases one flower which bows and sways like it's appreciative of the affection he's poured on it, he turns his attention to the dozen others that have collected around his legs, drawn to some magnetic force. He lifts one, the very same Daihannya first touched, and cradles it in the palms of both hand, careful not to pull too hard lest it separate from the submerged stem.
Lotuses and Water lilies. Many would say the two never belonged in the same space. The tall expansive fronds would overwhelm the small floating flowers which would always be sheltered in their shadow.
Even now, his hands stain the petals with dirt and grime. But he's already decided to place his trust in it. Like the old poems always said.]
They suit one another. [His voice is thick like honey, like he's just trying to figure out how to speak for the first time.]
When I figured out your particular fondness for the lotus, I thought they would be together.
[And they're positioned just right so that the lotuses won't block the sun that should shine on the lilies. Both have equal opportunity to grow here. To thrive with each other. The right care and circumstance has made it so they can live together this way.
Gently, he touches the flower that Mikazuki is holding.]
Because these are the ones I have a particular fondness for.
[He had suspected that by now but it still feels ironic to have it confirmed. The laugh that follows is silent, solemn, visible only in his chest. He hadn't even been trying]
We know each other so well.
[He releases the lily now, so that he doesn't crush it when he reaches for Daihannya instead with both of his hands. It returns to the water that has once again turned placid and clear as the motes of fresh earth settle back down. No matter what turgid forces stir it back up, this is the state to which it will always return. He feels so at peace here
His heart has also been laid to rest back in his chest. Something else wells up in his throat now. He can't swallow it. Though it's never been far from mind it has come up more and more these past few months so that it's all he can think about now. It demands to be let out. He squeezes Daihannya's hand tighter.]
I've lost count.
[He looks up, reaching up to touch the lotus once more, turning aside the petals to reveal the pod full of seeds. The beginning and end of a cycle that never ends so long as the hand of nature intervenes to repeat it.]
[Daihannya can tell he's about to be told something significant. Something that Mikazuki has been keeping from him all this time. He hasn't minded that, of course. It's something that Mikazuki has needed to do. But he's also ready to hear it.
Pink eyes look to him, ready to hear what he has to say, ready to be open to receiving it.
As it turns out, he finds it easier than he realized. Because this information so far doesn't actually surprise him.]
What did you need to accomplish?
[No judgement, no pulling away. Just acceptance and a willingness to hear Mikazuki's reasons for his actions. Because this is a sword who always has his reasons for his actions, ones that always reflect his true intentions.]
[He looks at Daihannya now, square in the eye, his own liquid and soft and hiding a strange sorrow.]
Honestly it was quite selfish. I've been sent to oversee the end of the Taira and the rise of the Kamakura bakufu so many times. Heike's watery grave at Dan no Ura. The last stand of Benkei. The assassination of Minamoto no Yoshitsune at Atsukashiyama. The fall of the northern Fujiwara clan.
[The way he talks, there's a slight waver to his voice. The only thing holding back the great wave of emotion he clearly feels for this history. He has to take it slowly, pausing deeply, as he recounts a tale that is burned in his memory like no other.]
The razing of Hiraizumi... The palace gardens burned dry... Natsukusa ya tsuwamono domo ga... yume no ato...
[Summer fields, for many brave warriors all that remains of dreams. There's no better words for it than those of the master poet himself.
He hadn't meant to say so much but there was only one tenuous thread keeping it all in place. Now that it's come out, everything else follows in a sluice. The levy of his careful control giving way to flood waters.]
I suppose it couldn't be helped that I began to sympathize with them.
[And then, after only a brief hesitation, he gets to the heart of it. The thing that draws his eyes down to the hands in his lap and dials down his voice to a hushed murmur like the words were meant for the the ears of the gods alone.]
It doesn't always go like that. The way it's written in the songs they still sing.
[Daihannya listens to all of them and doesn't look away. He can feel the sorrow and the heaviness of each. Personally, he's able to be more detached from them because of how history treated him. But Mikazuki...
He sympathized and worked to do things in those histories. Daihannya actually smiles a little.]
Sometimes there are so many stories we don't know what is history any longer.
[His voice rises an octave. Insistent. Every single one of those stories has played out before his eyes and many more that never made it in to the annals of legend. And all without the intervention of the history retrograde army.
Sometimes even in spite of it.]
Do you know we share powers with our enemy? I've had to employ it many times to keep everything on track. Once I even thought to promise that I would save them in exchange for playing their part.
[It's a half truth, one he suspects Daihannya will see through. He always was too curious for his own good.]
It wouldn't have mattered. I've learned that fate is a greater force than any of us can control.
[Which begs the questions that linger in his mind now. What was the damned point of it all? For centuries they've played the part of mindless tools to senseless bloodshed, to the petty whims of humans. Perhaps he hasn't been so wronged as someone like Daihannya but he's faced his own hardships. Some of them together, he thinks, squeezing that hand tighter.
By all rights he should hate them. Instead, in this form, after everything he's done, he understands them.]
I think I loved them.
[And that's the half lie. Because there's no doubt in his mind that he did love them and still does to this day.]
[There's a nod to show that he agrees. It is all history even if there are variations that argue with what really took place. Why can't there be more than one timeline where all of them exist at once?
Time is honestly so complicated that he feels it can be true.
But he doesn't believe for even a moment that the full truth of the matter is that promise Mikazuki speaks about. His eyes watching him say that he sees through that to the core of the matter.
It's only at the last part though that he actually argues his thoughts allowed. He shakes his head slowly.]
No. You love them.
I stg I don't mean to keep making these monstrously long
[Mikazuki doesn't answer that. It seems somehow profane to put the words to something that has for so long been wrapped up in his mind, in the depths of his emotion. They weren't here. He might never see them again. There were far worse places to lay them to rest than the grave of his memories.
It was more than could ever be done for him.
But then they had tried their best. Meant all the promises he knew they couldn't keep. The truth of it was in these flowers. Not the exact same ones but the feeling is there all the same. That's why he would keep his, every time.]
The gardens of Hiraizumi were a sight to behold. The lotuses there so big they could obscure your whole face. And so heavy they could barely keep their heads up. Like they were always bowed by the presence of any who lingered long enough to appreciate them.
[His smile is still sad but it's also beautiful and for once it's as clear as the water that has finally settled around them. He's so grateful, not just for the garden, but for all it stands for, everything that has been done for him.
The mud on his fingers has started to dry. He rubs his hands together so it flakes off and so he can frame Daihannya's face and pull him in for a kiss.]
This time next year, these flower will be every bit as lovely.
[He leans into the kiss and then rests his forehead against Mikazuki's. The other didn't have to tell him any of this. It could have stayed his secret and Daihannya would have never held it against him. Instead, he's told him and that means the world to him.
Eyes closed for a moment, he just lets his moment surround them.]
[But he did have to tell him. Like a disease whose only cure was to be cut out. Even if that meant subjecting someone else to it instead. But when faced with someone he actually felt this close to, trusted enough not to leave or betray him because of it, it had only been a matter of time.
And now it's out there and he feels so much lighter. A feeling of calm invades him now that is so unfamiliar, so foreign, he can hardly recognize the new freedom for what it is. The absence of the weight that had been holding him down, letting him drown.
He lets his hands fall again to his lap where he can look at them. And then he fills them with Daihannya's, holding him just as tightly.]
Those should be my words to you. I can't ever thank you enough. But I'll stay with you, as long as I'm allowed.
[Rising to his feet, he gently tugs Mikazuki to his feet so he can help him out of the water. They're both soaked and muddy which means the floors will need to be cleaned to. A problem for later since right now the main concern is getting the pair of them cleaned up first.
He brings those hands up to his lips to kiss them lightly. And then he glances back at the once silver fox tail he now forever has.]
[Even now, Mikazuki provides some resistance to being pulled away from the garden, a heavy weight like his whole body is waterlogged instead of just his clothes. Given the choice he might spend the whole night here beneath the sanguis moon to take root among these flowers, in the fresh earth that brings life to this foreign world.
It's a terribly fanciful prospect and one that would be wholly unbecoming of a tenka goken, as if it weren't already. But Daihannya giving voice to that fact is what finally dislodges him. He gets to his feet with the mud and water cascading from the half a dozen layers he wears.
Under any other circumstances he might have regretted this lack of foresight. Now, he doesn't even have the decency to look abashed. He simply peek around the other sword to see how bad it is.]
I'm sure you didn't. [Which means he knows Daihannya wasn't about to let that stop him from everything he's done. Mikazuki is smiling at that, as he takes the first careful steps to lead them out of the pond.]
[Daihannya just gives him a knowing smile at having his lie called out. Of course Mikazuki would know him well enough at this point to know that isn't the truth. But that's one of the many things he's fond of when it comes to him.
A soft chuckle and Daihannya carefully leads the way to the baths so they can try to leave as little a mess as possible since they already will be leaving one anyway. If they're lucky, no one will realize it was them who made it and someone like Hasebe will clean it later.
But there are the baths, he turns to start helping Mikazuki out of his clothes so that way he can put them in a pile with his own for laundering later.]
[Fortunately the path to the bath is short, taking them past only the kitchen to the back of the house and none of the spaces reserved for business up front. Like everything else about the home, it was traditional in nature. An area reserved for washing and a large separate tub for bathing, though it lacks the open air onsen experience many of them have grown accustomed to.
Fabric, a sopping wet mountain of it has to be peeled from his body and the remains of it stains his pale moon white skin with streaks of black earth. He helps Daihannya in turn, some layers easier than the court dress, some more of a challenge, until they're practically tripping over one another trying to remove their pants that keep getting stuck on legs, feet, each other.
The somber mood from earlier is almost completely dispelled as Mikazuki descends into characteristic laughter.]
[Daihannya bursts into laughter with him as he almost falls over trying to get his pants off before offering support to Mikazuki so that way he can get his off too. And when they're both completely naked, he leans in to give him a quick kiss.]
One would never know that we're actually graceful swords after that display.
[Mikazuki allows the kiss, just as he allows himself to drape his arms over Daihannya's bare shoulders, threading fingers together behind his neck as he just... exists. Together with him. But it isn't long before he has to purse his lips together or he'll never get what he has to say out past the laughter that threatens to spill over again.]
Really? You're going to maintain that illusion even now? You're only fooling yourself.
[Anyone else might see them that way, might be impressed by their presence. The nebulous nature of their divinity. But they both know better. Strip away a few supernatural quirks and they were perfectly comfortable with their humanity. Honestly, Mikazuki wouldn't have it any other way.]
I'll wash you. [He decides it all of a sudden while leaving no room for debate.]
[He laughs again but no. He's not going to try maintaining that illusion. There's no point. Not when it's just them and they can just be what they wish to be without concern about what others will think.
Freeing his hair, he shakes it free. It'll need to be washed too since it's long enough to have been in that water as well.]
Thank you.
[Don't worry. He won't argue. He'll just head over with him to the stools where they can get scrubbed clean.]
[Mikazuki comes to stand behind him, reaching over him to take the shower hand from the wall. First he'll have to wash off his own hands and arms where they he had sunk them into the earth or they'd do nothing but make matters worse. It takes time for the water to warm and loosen the dirt that has dried there but he's soon satisfied that they're clean enough.
He starts with Daihannya's hair, reveling in the way it slides smoothly through his fingers, how it darkens as the warm stream of water soaks through. It's murky as it runs down his back, pooling on the stone tiled floor and then rushing away to the drain. The dirt and grime is washed away but not the memories that caused it. Rather he can look on them now with a nascent clarity.
Fingers scrape at his scalp as he adds the soap. They smooth down his neck and massage his shoulders and then, he hums, thoughtful as he works. Before long it converges into a haunting melody.]
[He plans to wash Mikazuki after this but takes the time to simply enjoy the attention he's being given until then. Pink eyes fall closed as his newly acquired tail lazily rests behind him. Now and then the tip shifts a bit, just a little sign of how relaxed he is as those beautiful hands work into the long strands of his hair then down to his skin.
The melody catches his attention and he feels almost soothing chills run through him. Maybe soothing isn't the right word but it somehow still applies. Without realizing it, the tip of his tail has started to sway to the tune as he quietly listens to see if he's heard Mikazuki sing this one before.]
The former ruler of Sanguis moon received this picture and called it "junk mail." 8 days later Sanguis moon became uninhabitable. A man received this picture and immediately sent out copies, then received good fortune for an entire year, including winning a jackpot lottery. Copy, paste, and send this to 9 people or you will be cursed. Don't take any chances. Sanguis did, and now no one can live there.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tdm overflow, we do what we want
The flower viewing has come to a close, and the maniacal machines have ceased its fixation on his hair (how cruel that those "roomba" disks would even consider his fur so messy that it would attempt to devour it)— and so the residents have begun to filter their way back to their homes, he assumes.
&mdash And again, his nose may not be as sharp, but there is one that makes him stop dead in his tracks. Suddenly, there seems to be too many people on the path. Too many heads, and too much muttering, clattering, and bumping shoulders (were there always this many people? Has he been up on the clouds this entire time?). But Kogitsunemaru isn't about to give up on following that scent— he knows it belongs to only Mikazuki Munechika, and just as he's able to make that distinction, the he catches a glimpse of the back of his head - the royal blue sheen and decorative headpiece - and he could have sworn Mikazuki had seen him too.
Or perhaps he imagined it— but Kogi can imagine the crescent in his eyes as they lock gazes, and it would have made sense if Mikazuki had just. Stopped walking away and disappearing further into the crowd.
He doesn't know why this irritates him, but it sends him into a frenzy, pushing past the people who have become too troublesome for him to apologize— and he keeps pushing, shoving, until he thinks he's reached him. Placed a firm grip on his shoulder and gasps out: ] Mikazuki-dono—
[ But this man isn't him. Similar, yes, but it isn't him. Furthermore, the scent upon him doesn't even remotely resemble the whiff he'd caught earlier. So he mutters an apologize at last and lets the confused man go, and he searches again for those golden tassels. Just then, he catches sight of him, perhaps, and he begins moving toward him again... ]
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Mikazuki doesn't have the advantage of Kogitsunemaru's sense of smell but he did believe in fate, particular of the portentous variety. The foreboding sense settles around him long before he lays eyes on that silver cascade of hair, warmed by the golden glow of his silk robes. In that moment, Mikazuki realizes there are only two options—that Kogitsunemaru is the very same that he knows, the one that knows the truth about him, and he's dangerous. Or that that he's the Kogitsunemaru of another citadel, another saniwa, maybe even another Mikazuki Munechika that never experienced his betrayal. And he is also dangerous.
He's not so naive to think he can avoid him. The little fox will find his way to the den of swords like all the others. The least he can do is ensure this meeting is on his terms.
The crowd provides the perfect cover to give chase. Mikazuki watches him carefully and the moment he's been noticed, he's gone again. All those aimless days and nights spent lost in the city are given purpose in this very moment. He knows these streets, doesn't even need to think about it for his feet to follow them.
Kogitsunemaru will always spot him just as he's turning a corner, crossing through a shopping arcade, ducking down an alley, and finally, when he's just up ahead, he turns just out of sight and the only thing waiting in his wake is a dead end , devoid of any more life than a passing stray cat.]
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Now he starts feeling irritation in his heart; he's uncertain if it was purposeful that he's fleeting, or if the fates have ruled they must wait to meet... but he is among the last of the Touken Danshi that he hasn't exchanged greetings. Kogitsunemaru doesn't necessarily even know if Mikazuki is the one he knows, but it doesn't mean that they can't get acquainted, right? Kogi has been hesitant to get too close to the others, but Mikazuki is... different.
He thinks, maybe, just maybe, that they can just enjoy tea together and things will be exactly like home.
When he turns the corner, Mikazuki is gone once again, and as the annoyance begin to build up, he finds himself wanting to scream at the top of his lungs— Luckily for everyone, he doesn't. ]
Where have you ran off to now—? [ And again, a glimpse. This time he was almost too certain that Mikazuki is avoiding him. Almost. But his heart doesn't believe it, makes up excuses for his strange behavior. It didn't... make sense. Could this all be coincidence? Then, he decides to make a run for it, as quickly as his legs can carry him.
This time, he's not going to let him escape. ]
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If he's being completely honest with himself, though it pains him, though he had been prepared for it to end with the end of them, he doesn't hate Kogitsunemaru. He loves him the same as he loves Imanotsurugi, Iwatooshi, Ishikirimaru. The bond between them is no tenuous thing, maybe not like the other families of the citadel who speak in such terms, but special to him all the same. But the differences between them in particular were like night and day. They couldn't precisely understand one another. Maybe they never would.
Maybe this was just his curse, to exist in the shadow of the sun, waiting for it to expose him, expand and devour him. But after 1200 years, one of the only ones to make it this long, he's learned a thing or two about self preservation.
Kogitsunemaru's frustration grows ever more palpable and he has the sense that maybe this one isn't his. His would recognize the game by now, wouldn't he? Call him out. Maybe they could laugh about it. With their mission on indefinite hold, maybe he could finally tell everyone here who Mikazuki Munechika really was. And that was something he still wasn't ready to face.
So he'll face his friend instead. As he starts to run, Mikazuki conceals himself among a glowing colonnade, lit up in so many colors it puts their native Shinjuku to shame. He disappears against a backdrop of blue, making a full circle around it, only to come out behind the other sword as he rushes past.]
Ah Kogitsunemaru-dono. Could that be you? [His face feigns the perfect mix of shock and surprise and delight. His smile is only a hint of unsettling in a manner that is not wholly uncharacteristic of him.] Where are you off to in such a hurry?
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Then, he hears what he thought was chimes— and then Mikzuki's smooth voice.
He's frozen in place, absorbing the scene. His deep crimson eyes meet the crescent of his irises, mesmerized, and it's as though he hasn't seen him for ages.
The tufts on his head warily perks momentarily, then flatten against his head— something is off about Mikazuki, and the only reason being is that he's utterly unreadable. ] Mikazuki-dono, I was...
[ He was looking for him, chasing after him. Had they not met eyes? Was Mikazuki running away, truly? Why has it become so difficult to get a feel of what's going on? But it's no time to flounder. Kogitsunemaru clears his throat and straightens his posture, peering down curiously at the man. ]
I thought I had seen you, so I chased after— [ He shakes his head. ] The Saniwa said you were here, but I feel as though I've only been chasing your ghost. You're everywhere and nowhere...
[ A huff of a laugh, and a mutter: ] How very like you.
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Mikazuki holds out his arms and floats toward him, seamless as some apparition that is sure to fade away like he's been doing all along. It's less an invitation than it is a gesture of welcome on his terms, exactly as he wanted it.] I'm very glad to hear I continue to live up to your expectations.
[In those crimson eyes, his confusion is written plain and that's all Mikazuki needs to answers his own questions about the identity of this particular Kogitsunemaru. He can't say whether that's a disappointment or not but it is endlessly tiresome to think that this could mean a return to their old chase.
The little fox and the moon bunny. Maybe it's fate.]
Not so glad to hear that I have missed you for this long. [He remains the very picture of effortless serenity, coming to take his place beside Kogitsunemaru.] Come. We should catch up.
Flower
After all, that pink ribbon looks exactly like the one a certain someone wears in his hair all the time.
He offers faithfulness.]
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I have a gift for you. Are you on your way back now?
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[He's not upset but maybe it does hurt his pride a little that Daihannya has managed to get the best of the whole day.]
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He's not too perturbed as he mounts the stairs to the second floor next, suspecting that the other sword would be waiting within their room instead but another door opens on little more than the company of setting sun glowing behind opaque shoji paper.
He frowns. And looks at his device once more.]
I'm here.
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Spying him, he comes over to deliver a kiss to his cheek.]
Come downstairs with me then close your eyes.
[Slipping his glove off, he reaches out to take his hand.]
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His steps slow, pulling back on him just a bit—not enough to stop them—when he starts to make sense of the direction they're going.
And he wonders, does the pulse in his throat transmit along all the veins of all his limbs to the place where he holds on to the other, squeezing faintly tighter.]
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A garden of lotuses and water lilies enjoying the beautiful pond together.
Stepping behind Mikazuki, he releases his hand and settles his own onto his shoulders.]
You can look.
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The moon tonight doesn't belong to them but it hangs high in the sky bathing the garden below in a sanguine glow that brings out the brilliant pink and white of the their endless sea of petals. It steals his breath from him, all words and thoughts. Leaving only pure instinct as a guide.
He parts from Daihannya, letting his hands slip away behind him as the whole world, everything outside of this moment, fades away from around him.
His feet carrying him unbidden over the earth that alternates between lush and still dusty in the patches that haven't taken hold, never stopping even as he cross the threshold of the pond. They sink into the mud just inches beneath the brackish waters that bring life to such beautiful blossoms. And he sinks to his knees. The flowers and stems part like the holy seas around him; his fingers finding the spaces between the freshly planted rhizomes. There's little regard for how it soaks through layer upon layer of his blue and white silks. It's where he's always felt he belonged.
Blindly, he tears the gloves from his hands, discards them, losing them instead in the layers of velvet soft petals that sway before him. They are strong and supple and they stand so proudly beneath the light of the moon and he's never been felt so privileged by their presence.
He traces the sepals, doesn't even hesitate to hide his face in one full bloom. What little scent they carry can't be captured like this but it's still enough to send him back, back and before he knows it, before he has a chance to guard against it, there are dew drops falling on them as they fall first from his his cheeks.
It's been so long. Months since he came here. Many more since he was last allowed there and then. And he misses them. Those who would never mourn him. Yasuhira. Yoritomo. Even Yoshitsune, Benkei. It's a deep ache, a hole in his heart so wide he doesn't know how he's ignored it for this long. And never with anyone to share it until now. So instead he'll mourn for himself.
He once told Daihannya that he didn't have a favorite flower and he hadn't been lying. For the lotus doesn't just bring him joy. It brings sorrow and anger and pleasure and fear and regret. It arcs through as many human emotions as there are petals on it's stem. As many as he thinks must exist in the world that is so new and fragile and fleeting as a flower.
And he feels them all at once.]
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He smiles a little, not stopping the other as he sinks into the water. There's something truly beautiful about the moment and how private it is, his new silver tail gently swaying behind him.
It's several minutes before he approaches him, gently stepping into the water so he can sink down next to him, fingers reaching out to brush one of the lilies as it floats near him. He doesn't ask about what Mikazuki is feeling. He doesn't speak at all. All he does is linger near him like these lilies.
He'll be here for as long as Mikazuki needs him to be.
Gladly.]
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As he releases one flower which bows and sways like it's appreciative of the affection he's poured on it, he turns his attention to the dozen others that have collected around his legs, drawn to some magnetic force. He lifts one, the very same Daihannya first touched, and cradles it in the palms of both hand, careful not to pull too hard lest it separate from the submerged stem.
Lotuses and Water lilies. Many would say the two never belonged in the same space. The tall expansive fronds would overwhelm the small floating flowers which would always be sheltered in their shadow.
Even now, his hands stain the petals with dirt and grime. But he's already decided to place his trust in it. Like the old poems always said.]
They suit one another. [His voice is thick like honey, like he's just trying to figure out how to speak for the first time.]
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[And they're positioned just right so that the lotuses won't block the sun that should shine on the lilies. Both have equal opportunity to grow here. To thrive with each other. The right care and circumstance has made it so they can live together this way.
Gently, he touches the flower that Mikazuki is holding.]
Because these are the ones I have a particular fondness for.
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We know each other so well.
[He releases the lily now, so that he doesn't crush it when he reaches for Daihannya instead with both of his hands. It returns to the water that has once again turned placid and clear as the motes of fresh earth settle back down. No matter what turgid forces stir it back up, this is the state to which it will always return. He feels so at peace here
His heart has also been laid to rest back in his chest. Something else wells up in his throat now. He can't swallow it. Though it's never been far from mind it has come up more and more these past few months so that it's all he can think about now. It demands to be let out. He squeezes Daihannya's hand tighter.]
I've lost count.
[He looks up, reaching up to touch the lotus once more, turning aside the petals to reveal the pod full of seeds. The beginning and end of a cycle that never ends so long as the hand of nature intervenes to repeat it.]
Of just how many times I've change history.
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Pink eyes look to him, ready to hear what he has to say, ready to be open to receiving it.
As it turns out, he finds it easier than he realized. Because this information so far doesn't actually surprise him.]
What did you need to accomplish?
[No judgement, no pulling away. Just acceptance and a willingness to hear Mikazuki's reasons for his actions. Because this is a sword who always has his reasons for his actions, ones that always reflect his true intentions.]
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Honestly it was quite selfish. I've been sent to oversee the end of the Taira and the rise of the Kamakura bakufu so many times. Heike's watery grave at Dan no Ura. The last stand of Benkei. The assassination of Minamoto no Yoshitsune at Atsukashiyama. The fall of the northern Fujiwara clan.
[The way he talks, there's a slight waver to his voice. The only thing holding back the great wave of emotion he clearly feels for this history. He has to take it slowly, pausing deeply, as he recounts a tale that is burned in his memory like no other.]
The razing of Hiraizumi... The palace gardens burned dry... Natsukusa ya tsuwamono domo ga... yume no ato...
[Summer fields, for many brave warriors all that remains of dreams. There's no better words for it than those of the master poet himself.
He hadn't meant to say so much but there was only one tenuous thread keeping it all in place. Now that it's come out, everything else follows in a sluice. The levy of his careful control giving way to flood waters.]
I suppose it couldn't be helped that I began to sympathize with them.
[And then, after only a brief hesitation, he gets to the heart of it. The thing that draws his eyes down to the hands in his lap and dials down his voice to a hushed murmur like the words were meant for the the ears of the gods alone.]
It doesn't always go like that. The way it's written in the songs they still sing.
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He sympathized and worked to do things in those histories. Daihannya actually smiles a little.]
Sometimes there are so many stories we don't know what is history any longer.
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[His voice rises an octave. Insistent. Every single one of those stories has played out before his eyes and many more that never made it in to the annals of legend. And all without the intervention of the history retrograde army.
Sometimes even in spite of it.]
Do you know we share powers with our enemy? I've had to employ it many times to keep everything on track. Once I even thought to promise that I would save them in exchange for playing their part.
[It's a half truth, one he suspects Daihannya will see through. He always was too curious for his own good.]
It wouldn't have mattered. I've learned that fate is a greater force than any of us can control.
[Which begs the questions that linger in his mind now. What was the damned point of it all? For centuries they've played the part of mindless tools to senseless bloodshed, to the petty whims of humans. Perhaps he hasn't been so wronged as someone like Daihannya but he's faced his own hardships. Some of them together, he thinks, squeezing that hand tighter.
By all rights he should hate them. Instead, in this form, after everything he's done, he understands them.]
I think I loved them.
[And that's the half lie. Because there's no doubt in his mind that he did love them and still does to this day.]
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Time is honestly so complicated that he feels it can be true.
But he doesn't believe for even a moment that the full truth of the matter is that promise Mikazuki speaks about. His eyes watching him say that he sees through that to the core of the matter.
It's only at the last part though that he actually argues his thoughts allowed. He shakes his head slowly.]
No. You love them.
I stg I don't mean to keep making these monstrously long
It was more than could ever be done for him.
But then they had tried their best. Meant all the promises he knew they couldn't keep. The truth of it was in these flowers. Not the exact same ones but the feeling is there all the same. That's why he would keep his, every time.]
The gardens of Hiraizumi were a sight to behold. The lotuses there so big they could obscure your whole face. And so heavy they could barely keep their heads up. Like they were always bowed by the presence of any who lingered long enough to appreciate them.
[His smile is still sad but it's also beautiful and for once it's as clear as the water that has finally settled around them. He's so grateful, not just for the garden, but for all it stands for, everything that has been done for him.
The mud on his fingers has started to dry. He rubs his hands together so it flakes off and so he can frame Daihannya's face and pull him in for a kiss.]
This time next year, these flower will be every bit as lovely.
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Eyes closed for a moment, he just lets his moment surround them.]
Thank you for sharing this with me.
[He'll treasure it. Keep it between them.]
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And now it's out there and he feels so much lighter. A feeling of calm invades him now that is so unfamiliar, so foreign, he can hardly recognize the new freedom for what it is. The absence of the weight that had been holding him down, letting him drown.
He lets his hands fall again to his lap where he can look at them. And then he fills them with Daihannya's, holding him just as tightly.]
Those should be my words to you. I can't ever thank you enough. But I'll stay with you, as long as I'm allowed.
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[Rising to his feet, he gently tugs Mikazuki to his feet so he can help him out of the water. They're both soaked and muddy which means the floors will need to be cleaned to. A problem for later since right now the main concern is getting the pair of them cleaned up first.
He brings those hands up to his lips to kiss them lightly. And then he glances back at the once silver fox tail he now forever has.]
Ah. I'd forgotten about that detail...
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It's a terribly fanciful prospect and one that would be wholly unbecoming of a tenka goken, as if it weren't already. But Daihannya giving voice to that fact is what finally dislodges him. He gets to his feet with the mud and water cascading from the half a dozen layers he wears.
Under any other circumstances he might have regretted this lack of foresight. Now, he doesn't even have the decency to look abashed. He simply peek around the other sword to see how bad it is.]
I'm sure you didn't. [Which means he knows Daihannya wasn't about to let that stop him from everything he's done. Mikazuki is smiling at that, as he takes the first careful steps to lead them out of the pond.]
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A soft chuckle and Daihannya carefully leads the way to the baths so they can try to leave as little a mess as possible since they already will be leaving one anyway. If they're lucky, no one will realize it was them who made it and someone like Hasebe will clean it later.
But there are the baths, he turns to start helping Mikazuki out of his clothes so that way he can put them in a pile with his own for laundering later.]
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Fabric, a sopping wet mountain of it has to be peeled from his body and the remains of it stains his pale moon white skin with streaks of black earth. He helps Daihannya in turn, some layers easier than the court dress, some more of a challenge, until they're practically tripping over one another trying to remove their pants that keep getting stuck on legs, feet, each other.
The somber mood from earlier is almost completely dispelled as Mikazuki descends into characteristic laughter.]
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One would never know that we're actually graceful swords after that display.
[Which actually makes it more amusing.]
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Really? You're going to maintain that illusion even now? You're only fooling yourself.
[Anyone else might see them that way, might be impressed by their presence. The nebulous nature of their divinity. But they both know better. Strip away a few supernatural quirks and they were perfectly comfortable with their humanity. Honestly, Mikazuki wouldn't have it any other way.]
I'll wash you. [He decides it all of a sudden while leaving no room for debate.]
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Freeing his hair, he shakes it free. It'll need to be washed too since it's long enough to have been in that water as well.]
Thank you.
[Don't worry. He won't argue. He'll just head over with him to the stools where they can get scrubbed clean.]
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He starts with Daihannya's hair, reveling in the way it slides smoothly through his fingers, how it darkens as the warm stream of water soaks through. It's murky as it runs down his back, pooling on the stone tiled floor and then rushing away to the drain. The dirt and grime is washed away but not the memories that caused it. Rather he can look on them now with a nascent clarity.
Fingers scrape at his scalp as he adds the soap. They smooth down his neck and massage his shoulders and then, he hums, thoughtful as he works. Before long it converges into a haunting melody.]
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The melody catches his attention and he feels almost soothing chills run through him. Maybe soothing isn't the right word but it somehow still applies. Without realizing it, the tip of his tail has started to sway to the tune as he quietly listens to see if he's heard Mikazuki sing this one before.]
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The former ruler of Sanguis moon received this picture and called it "junk mail." 8 days later Sanguis moon became uninhabitable. A man received this picture and immediately sent out copies, then received good fortune for an entire year, including winning a jackpot lottery. Copy, paste, and send this to 9 people or you will be cursed. Don't take any chances. Sanguis did, and now no one can live there.
Christmas