eternally graceful*

kasen kanesada. priv / semiselective ; by uboa.

[elencholic]

A small jolt is the only response to the direct usage of her name, hesitation finding it's claim over her frame. She can feel it — the teal eyes boring into her, the disapproving expression written across his face ( one seen too many times before, no need to observe it again ) and, upon swallowing thickly, clenched hands slowly slip out from beneath the thick blanket... The color of something tan and worn within her palms, squeezed tight.

As Suigetsu's fist relaxes, eventually opening, the small felt doll she so desperately obscured from his view is finally exposed... a haunting simulacrum of a certain blade.

" I...It's... I was t...trying... a-and so.... "

Stuttered words stumble past soft lips, dark eyes gazing upon the beginner's creation with embarrassment. Rather out of character for the composed woman, a blush spreads across pale skin. Somehow, her head feels to heavy to lift, eyes feel too much shame to feel comfort in looking at the reaction of the other.

" It's... I'm not too sure how to... go about, such creations... It's a bit... "

[eiyomi]

              Frozen. No. Utterly paralyzed ; That was Kasen's state. His eyes open wide, mouth slightly agape, his hand hovering mid-air without flinching. He tried to process it … and more importantly, process what reaction came even closer to appropriate to give.  But right now he was nothing but profoundly, devastatingly, speechless.     His mouth opened as if to say something at least twice, thrice. Nothing. 

               The … doll. I   f it could be called that. A product of a butchered … what? drying rag…?    ( Where did Suigetsu even get this from… ? ! )   Haphazardly sewn together, with crude, inelegant, shaky stitches in thick black string. It attempted to resemble a body that was more akin to a cross, the fabric was daring to crumble away at the seams. Then… the face. Or what tried to stand for it. Scribbled with botched, runny paint. Inexperienced strokes crafted something closer to a child's drawing than a doll-like faucet. The remaining part –- hair, seemed to be a mix and match of a discarded, bleached horsetail brush. And worst of all … was this meant to resemble … resemble … c-c-ch… — ? !

                “… I… uh, I… ”     His brain screamed at him a mandatory order, on red alarms — maximum alert ; ( Conceal your shock! Conceal your shock! This is utterly rude — look at her face! You're breaking a lady's heart – ! )  But it was in vain. The utter processing power the concealment took overwhelmed his head for a second, and all he could muster was a forced, strained smile.    “… Ah… I… I see…”    A drop of cold sweat through his forehead. 

[eiyomi]

Kasen walked into the main hall. The night lingered on, stagnant in tension – It was the fresh afterlight of an almost successful sortie. The distant coppery smell of blood and steel carried over, far too familiar for them. Everything was calm, yet weary. He only had been given a vague overview of the conclusion by their saniwa, but deeply incomplete for a reason — Kasen could only assume the expedition hadn't ended in the best terms, by the look on their face. Perhaps a few wounded, a technical retreat, nothing too bad, he hoped.

The sound of a sliding door as he turned to the main hallway made him stop in his tracks ; in there, the shape of an acquainted figure. Clad in a pleasant shade of pink, Souza Samonji always knew to carry along with elegance — therefore, Kasen had archived them as a figure worthy of his respect and trust since the first day. Souza was peaceful, reserved, graceful — he saw kinship in it, or at least, in his so-called perfect idealized way of being. 

He heard the door slide close, and immediately identified the room. Repairs. His eyes softened in an attempt of empathizing — either the other sword had been wounded, or someone close to their circle had. He greeted them carefully, as to not startle.

     “   Souza, is everything all right?   ” 

@melancholicblossom liked for a starter!

[elencholic]

No  warmth  is  left  in  the  palm  of  my  hand, all  it  holds  is  my  wish,  my  perfect  adieu. 

∗  independent  &  selective  ∷  original  character  Suigetsu  Ogawa

⋗  penned  by  neige  (  she,  24  )  ➺  multifandom  friendly

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[eiyomi]

The sound of the broom against the wooden floor permeated accordingly onto the silent midday over the honmaru. Kasen hummed to himself, the last of the housekeeping duties of the neat inside passing by. Then, an odd feeling. 

It wasn't evidence, wasn't a precise, tangible proof of something wrong. It was a sensation, something akin to a sixth sense, perhaps trained over years of warfare, perhaps something innate to being a sword warrior, perhaps a perk of his own esoteric manifestation in this form. He lifted his head to the outside. The honmaru's large wooden sliding door was open, facing the patio... or more like the wilderness of the large mass of foliage outside, all of it their backyard. His eyes lost on the green, trying to focus on what felt like a remaining motion amongst the leaves. 

An animal? All other swords had been dispatched for the day, so it couldn't be a wandering mischief-maker of their own. He immediately abandoned the broom, all senses alert, and stepped onto the soft grass, walking towards the direction of the sound. He had no hesitation on striking any pest down. His movements were slow, approaching the source of motion. It had to be a wild animal. 

Then, another motion ⸺ he felt it. Too large to be an animal, or perhaps, too large of an animal. In an instant, his fight reflex kicked in. He produced his sword out of thin air ⸺ manifestation magic, only capable by a warrior of his kin. Large rat or trespasser, it didn't matter. An anomaly was an anomaly.

" Show yourself! "  He roared. Intruder or... beast. Whatever it might be.

@tenkoseiensei liked for a starter!

[elencholic]

" Nothing. "

The answer is abrupt, too quick to seem natural. As Kasen approaches, shoulders rise and eyes avert — though she was easily taller than him while standing, it was the wideness of his figure that made him much, much more imposing when she was seated before him. The violet haired man spoke in a tone reserved for the tantous ,( or other mischievous blades, Hacchou flashing in her mind ) and she finds herself feeling strangely.. guilty.

Curling up, it's as if she attempts to shrink herself out of existence, out of his line of sight, and hopefully away from any more scrutiny. Even so, hands remain beneath the kotatsu as she lowers her chin to the tabletop, the futon rising to her elbows.

" Cold this morning, isn't it...? " A weak attempt at distraction. Even so, the felt beneath her fingers feels as if it's a blade ready to strike, the desperation to conceal crafted work rising within her with an urgency that borders on desperate. One may find the scenario ridiculous, or the actions even absurd, but it's feeling more and more like life and death by the moment...

" Daichi-sama is waking up soon, isn't he? D-doesn't he usually... need you? "

[eiyomi]

Kasen's eye twitches. His temper is short enough, but the dismissal, the playing dumb, the mentioning of that nasty, nasty man this early in the morning shortens it more. His eyes narrow with suspicion as he analyzes the saniwa's posture further. Hidden hands, eyes that won't meet him, bad posture as an animal trying to make itself small, inflection of the voice that variates from her usual deadpan delivery... She was pronouncing her syllabes a bit too much. It was dead serious.

Suigetsu's simple-minded behaviors usually opened her wide for scrutiny the second they deviated from her norm; and this was the best example of it. He closes his eyes and sigh, his brows furrowed further. He had to adopt the tone.

" Suigetsu. " No honorary. The word comes out bolded in real life too, coated with impatience. His eyes open again enough to directly look at her hands. " Show me. " A command. Cooperate or be forced to, miss saniwa.

[elencholic]

With a singular rushed motion, hands are quickly shoved beneath the kotatsu upon hearing the familiar voice of the man at the door. Eyes stare blankly ahead at the wall before her with absolute disinterest, mouth tightened into a straight line as she hesitates to speak. Even so, slowly, words come to lips, and Suigetsu finally addresses the other.

"...Good.. morning, Kasen-sama.."

Fidgeting nervously, it's as if she's been caught in the act, some sort of guilt written across her expression. Glancing sideways to finally address the other properly, dark eyes quickly scan him up and down, then just beyond the door — as if ensuring there's no other unwanted guests on the way.

"... You're up early too... Did Daichi-sama assign you to cleaning last night..?"

The question is half-interested, mostly-deflecting, a bead of sweat sliding down her cheek as her eyes quickly avert once more. Suddenly registering the tools on the table before her, hands rush to shove them away. Buttons, needles, loose fabric are thrown to the tatami without hesitation, swallowing nervously as she continues her determined blank gaze on the wall before her.

[eiyomi]

Now this was odd. Kasen stops moving for a second, his eyes fixed on the figure in the room with keen attention. It was unlike her to... move so much? The idea sounded a bit too absurd to Kasen, but it would make sense to anyone who was acquainted with the girl as he was. Suigetsu didn't do hurrying, didn't do panicked. She was a doll-like image of delicate lethargy, if he had to put a word to it, and she definitely didn't do something as childish as hiding things under the kosetsu like a naughty kid. If she was trying to deflect attention she was doing a really poor attempt at it.

Kasen's first thought was to worry. Had she gotten in trouble? Was she trying to conceal something incriminatory? The saniwa was not exactly the biggest troublemaker on the honmaru, which made things stranger. Worst scenario ⸺ was she perhaps, hurt and trying to conceal a wound? Had one of those ... boys ⸺ and lord, could he think of quite a few names ⸺ involved her on any sort of scheme against her will?

In two strides, he was across the room right in front of her, hands on his waist imposing, like some sort of motherly commander.

" Suigetsu-sama... what do you have there? " Her question, obviously, gets ignored. He didn't use this tone for Suigetsu, ever. But the situation felt demanding of it this once.

[eiyomi]

It was early in the morning. Peaceful, beautiful sunday. In these hours, the whole honmaru would be slowly waking up, giving him some time to arrange everything in place. Kasen's own master would be still asleep for another two or three hours, the lazy bastard he was. It gave him more very deserved peaceful time.

He finished arranging some loose toys and leftover belongings of last night, leaving the main dinner room back to it's orderly regular shape. As he walked past the hallway humming to himself he crossed by a familiar door, open, indicating it's sole resident was awake. It was Suigetsu's, the second saniwa in charge of the honmaru. She had a tendency to leave it open as an invitation.

Kasen smiled warmly. The girl's presence was familiar, almost affectionate ⸺ perhaps due to his own master considering her almost as family, that bond carried over to him too. He knocked out of compromise on the open door to notify his presence, seeing her back turned, seemingly lost in ... some sort of craft? Handiwork? She seemed very focused.

" Suigetsu-san, good morning. You're up early again. "

@elencholic

[eiyomi]

The day was pleasant. Perhaps too pleasant. ⸻ The sheets had been washed. The kitchen scrubbed clean. The main rooms aired and scrubbed clean. The honmaru was orderly, and more importantly ⸻ quiet. Beautifully, beautifully quiet.

Kasen finished arranging everything in place, clearing the last rag he had used. The birds sang, the tea was ready, the tantous had been dispatched for a minor sortie, meanwhile the most boisterous larger swords had been sent for more ... inelegant duties. Nothing could possibly ruin the (self-assigned, clearly) well deserved time for himself ; In Kasen's hand, a small book ⸻ short essays by Yoshida Kenkō, the brand new personal acquisition smuggled from the honmaru's last week's supply request. ( Access to modernity, and all it's printeries was a great thing. )

Once more, nothing could possibly ruin it. Nothing. Except the sight that made him stop at his tracks. The shape of not any sword ⸻ but the most unpleasant of them all. Ookurikara.

Kasen's eye twitched as he stood in the hallway. Ookurikara was in a perfect resting spot. Not any resting spot... his resting spot ; ( rude, barbaric. ) He sighed, perhaps too dramatically as to make sure he was being heard. The idea of sharing any sort of space in this perfect, fully balanced, peaceful, very-well-deserved-for-the-hardworking-only morning with...him was unpleasant enough to make everything seem tragic alongside it.

He cleared his throat loudly, as he adjusted his position to rest his hands on his waist. He would not "lower" himself to Ookurikara's level doing something so baffling as...lazing around. To him, at least. He would hope the other would catch the hint and leave to not cause any further scene.

" You're not with the horses. " Accusatory. Not even a hello.

@nxmelessfighter liked for a starter !

[eiyomi]

like for a starteeerr

[eiyomi]

only when a flower knows when it's time to fall, does it bloom with true beauty.* about | rules