{薙} — “Imanotsurugi…”
– he called once again, syllables caged and tired. He ceased brushing, distracted by his small companion’s attempts to climb Segaiwa. And surely, it was thanks to the tantou that the beast was calm enough to let Iwatooshi approach, for the horses would often paw at the ground nervously when he passed. He was thankful.
But when seated on top of their treasure, Imanotsurugi became radiant and lovely, and oh so far away – much like the Master that once lay claim to the very horse they’d been prized with.
Lord Yoshitsune.
He bit his lip. Tasted the words he didn’t want to say.
“This is no jest… Imanotsurugi. Listen carefully.” And it was times like this that he hated, times like this when the corners of his mouth were tugged tight and grim, when he was forced to explain something to a child that was anything but. It would be foolish to avoid his gaze, and so Iwatooshi’s cat-like stare bore into Imanotsurugi’s playful smile. A smile that had to be protected at all costs. “The missive I received was a request – from the ones who had enough power with which to draw our souls into this plane to begin with. Their ability is beyond Aruji’s… and neither do I have the power with which to dismiss it. After all, this battle cannot be won with just strength. Rather… there is no way I can compete what they ask of me.”
He kept a hand steady on Imanotsurugi’s shoulder. “I need you to watch over Aruji in my absence.”
Radiant and spirited were Imanotsurugi's smiles —yet for each smile that lightened that childlike expression, there would always be another sketched in sharp teeth and preying eyes that would answer to it, come with his hand by hand. That, too, was certain, that too was familiar.
That's how he knew —how he liked— things to be, for that way it was easier for him to understand them.
And still, seated on the back of their beloved present, playfully holding Iwatooshi’s fixed gaze, he did not find a smile to accompany his— but something somber and distant out of the corner of his eye (Are you staring at me, or at something far beyond us?).
So he leaned in a bit closer, dug deeper in amber hues using his very own crimson and failed to notice his expression and how it sank slowly, with the gentle pressure of the claw that wrapped his shoulder, with the strain on his long-time companion’s voice.
“Wait, wait a second-- don’t say such sad things all of a sudden!” The thought of white walls and stolen selves came to him in a fleeting instant and in an instant soft palms landed on the wider chest before them, as if his hands were big enough to keep theirs from Iwatooshi. “You really gave up before you told me? That’s no good, no good... I thought you could do anything!” But his tone grew slightly heated as he teased him. The angles of his mouth were tense, it hurt to hold his smile much longer without its partner there beside it. “Hey, what did they ask you to do? C’mon, I’ll help you! If I run and hide fast they won’t even notice me. That way it’s not cheating, is it?”
And for some reason it felt funny all the way down to his stomach. “Really, Iwatooshi, I don’t like how you’re talking...” …it sounds as though you’ll disappear at any minute.
(And this feeling, too, would be so strangely familiar, once he started to understand it.)
