#katanasouji

[onichizuru]

Wow, why is everything I write always depressing? Goodness, I've gone and made myself sad... I'm so sorry Souji-mun. My original intention wasn't to give you something so heartbreaking, I swear!

[onichizuru]

✿ *waggles eyebrows*

6: fingers kiss

Heart hammering against her ribcage, it felt as if the lump of muscles had pushed its way up into her throat. Gulping in air, it was so very hard to breath. Her tongue felt far too big for her mouth and she knew she was gagging; horrible little retching noises filled the small room as her fingers buried deeper into the heavy fabric. Her eyes watering with unshed tears, Chizuru fought to hold them in — to hide the fear bubbling up inside her, roiling just beneath her skin and raising her hair on end. She knew she was blinking rapidly to halt the trail of tears before it even began and she knew that she must look ridiculous with droplets of moisture sticking to her eyelashes causing them to clump together. Yet, the young oni couldn’t stop her petite frame from trembling. Hiccuping softly, as she fought to breathe evenly, Chizuru held fast to the other as she folded inwards. "S-Sorry," she mumbled. Shoulders shaking, the younger brunette bit down hard on her lip in an attempt to quell her shivering — to quash her fear. 

She could still feel it though, the sinewy musculature of Kazama’s arm wrapped around her abdomen as he brought her in close. His grip underneath her chin as he stared at her with those red eyes still throbbed. Too close. Tonight had been far too close. He’d come to take her and he’d almost succeeded. Fear had crawled into her body to nestle just beneath her flesh only to gnaw at what she had thought was a safe haven of sorts. The Shinsengumi Headquarters had become her home. There were people she cared for here. But what if she lost that security? …what if it was forcibly stolen?Another whimper slipped past clenched teeth. “O-Okita-san,” she wheezed, “p-please don’t let them…” Cut off abruptly as she choked on her own saliva, Chizuru clenched her eyes shut. Blindly, she groped for the other’s hands. Gripping them tightly, she brought the long digits to her mouth to press light kisses into the calloused flesh. The rough skin beneath her lips soon had her body sagging and her head drooping. Such strong hands would surely save her. With another peck to each fingertip, the demon girl knew that she was a burden. Her presence was troublesome. “I’m so sorry,” she puffed once more as she held her eyes shut against the world. 

[onichizuru]

It's his haori. Okita can't help but grin as he comes into the room and he sees Chizuru there. He waits for a while, trying to decide whether to wake her. She's so cute laying there, her hair splayed out over the blue jacket. But he'll definitely wake her, because there's nothing better than that blush.

My muse is curled up and asleep, clutching an item of your muse’s to their chest. Send me what the item and your muse’s reaction is.

Initially, she had meant to return the pale blue haori after washing it. She had hung it up with care along with all the others — sunlight filtering through the dyed fabric and casting tinted shadows across the ground of the courtyard. A light breeze had been floating through Kyoto when the sun was at its highest, so the garments had dried quickly. Collecting all of the articles, Chizuru had hefted an overflowing basket of blue back to her room to sort, fold, and then redistribute. So, really, she had meant to return it. Washing so many uniform jackets had her fingers aching as they pulled a single piece from the basket to hold out in front of her. The skin over her knuckles was so raw it threatened to split at any moment. Despite the clear sky, warm sun, and light breeze, the air outside was still chilly and had left her hands irritated. She'd been happy as she started the arduous task of "who's whose" that she'd decided to start with the higher ranking officers' uniforms. Pulling each from the basket -- weary of her worn out digits -- before holding them out in front of her for a rough, makeshift size comparison was time consuming. It wasn't long before the sun (once high in the sky) had drifted downward, shining light through her opened window. The warmth of its rays had splayed over her bare arms as she folded the last article. All the others were folded neatly in the basket, waiting for her to cart them back to their owners. Okita's was the only one she had had to finish folding as her eyes drooped.

Sleepiness had washed over her like a wave, crashing against her petite frame until she lay on the wooden floor with the haori the only padding pillowing her from the hard surface. Honestly, she didn't remember falling asleep. So, imagine the young oni's surprise when she awoke, eyelashes fluttering in the evening sunlight, to a self-satisfied smirk. The older man looked as if he'd caught the proverbial canary as a red tinge crawled up her neck into her cheeks. "O-Okita-san!" Sitting up hastily, Chizuru sheepishly looked at the rumpled material beneath her. Was it even still suitable to wear out on patrol that night? "I-I'm so sorry," she began, "I uh..." It took several moments of silent nibbling (her lower lip red and swollen by the time she was done) before she spoke again. "I fell asleep," she finished lamely.