#raijima

[dragon-kiddos]

"Kana." Ryoma asks for his attention with his name when he approaches Kana. "This is for you." He holds out a smooth, polished wooden box. The inside is lined with navy velvet, soft and plush enough to keep its contents from moving about in the box if it moved.

Tucked snuggly inside the cavity is a tantō of ivory. On the sheath are intricate carvings that depict Hoshidan, Nohrian, and Vallite culture in three scenes that wraps around the sheath. The hilt is the face of a dragon, designed in Hoshidan fashion with long whiskers and piercing eyes.

Ryoma frowns solemnly. "...It is one of my deepest regrets to have ever asked you and the others to fight our war," he says. "Even so, you all fought bravely. And for that, I could not be more grateful nor proud."

His smile returns as he holds up another tantō, similar in shape in Kana's, but different in design. (The carvings on the sheath and hilt depict sakuras and samurais. "It's called a tantō." He partially unsheathes his own tantō—"Every good samurai has one."—before sheathing it again.

"Mine belonged to my mother. Yours, I commissioned. Since you know how to handle a weapon, you should have one that can always remind you of home." Ryoma ruffles Kana's hair. "Use it wisely."

Ryoma grins, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. "Happy late birthday, Kanahara."

Kana was well-aware of Ryoma's arrival a short while after his birthday—long enough that it was acceptable for him to have not given Kana a gift. Little dragon didn't mind; he would never hold it against someone, as there were things more important in the world than mere birthdays.

He takes the box without question. Gloved fingertips trace over the carvings, stories he knows so well, symbols engrained in his memories since birth. Vallite culture makes his heart clench; so few know of it, and for Ryoma to go out of his way to not only learn it, but to commission such a piece...

"I'm glad that I got to fight at your side," he says eventually. "It wasn't something that any kid should have to experience, but I think, for me, it was a necessary one. I wouldn't be who I am now without that."

Tantō. He repeats the word quietly before looking up again.

"This is..."

Am I good enough to have this?

"... Thank you, Lord Uncle Ryoma." Voice slightly strained, his fingers flex around the blade's sheathe. "This means a lot to me. Thank you."

[extenebris]

The ball is lively; he expects nothing less. Since he doesn't know many, he doesn't expect to stay for long, but he'll at least support Shiro and his dance partner Ephraim in the White Heron Cup.

Away from the center of the crowd, Ryoma spots a familiar face. (And after some asking around and checking rosters, he's learned the student's name is Salem.)

"Salem," Ryoma loudly greets him—at least to hear above the crowd and the music—with a smile. When he's closer, he continues, "I see you have also come to the ball. At the hot springs on Count Charon's estate, you looked quite stressed."

A chuckle. "Take time to refresh before you focus again on your studies."

A new commotion beginning at the other end of the grand hall has captured Salem’s attention. Though distant from the crowd, he still has a good view of what appears to be a set of competitors taking to the floor. The White Heron Cup, he hears on the lips of someone else, and the pieces fall into place. It’s quite a show so far, and he nearly misses the sound of his name called from somewhere nearby. (Which, truthfully, he hadn’t expected to hear it at all).

He glances toward the source, and surprise accompanies recognition in the brief widening of his eyes.

“Ah, did I…?” Sheepishness over being read so easily precludes recollection of the circumstances of their first meeting. Certainly the man suddenly rising from the water to plant a hearty hand on his back, and Salem being nearly thrown into the water himself by it, hardly helped. But it’s clear to him now that he meant no harm by it, and the greeting now is full of warmth Salem hardly expects from a near-stranger.

“I have been watching the others—“ He nods toward the other students mingling across the ballroom floor. “—but I have never participated in an event such as this.” He remembers the card in his hand then.

“Forgive me for not knowing your name yet.” Salem holds out his empty list of engagements. “Would you sign it here? I believe that is part of this experience.”

[ashenprofessor]

[ wave ]

Byleth noticed the proud lion-like mane of hair across the courtyard. The royal professor was casually observing the students he was teaching, currently sparring on the ground before him. Originating from Hoshido, his sword skills were unfamiliar to her, the subtly curved blade of his katana contrasting with the straight of her own. She wondered about the effect this had on attacks.

His crossed arms and thoughtful expression as he watched the fight belied his intellect as a keen warrior. She would be interested in picking his brain at some point, expand her own combat knowledge. Perhaps he had an upcoming seminar she could attend.

Crossing the space, she moved into his line of sight a waved her hand in a small gesture to attract his attention. Confident he'd noticed her she went up to the samurai.

"Excuse me. I'm not certain we've met properly yet but I find myself intrigued by your use of the blade. If you have a seminar or time to show me some of its intricacies that would be very useful to my own studies."

Enquiry made, Byleth then bade the King farewell as he had a class to teach and she didn't want to take up too much of his time. She offered a second wave as she departed.

"Let me know when you have time but I'll leave you to continue teaching for now."

[dragon-kiddos]

Kana's grown. It's the first thing he notices about his nephew. Slightly taller, even with some of his baby face. And... a date. Expected, he thinks. Kana is a kind boy. It makes him proud to know he's doing well.

Coming up behind Kana, Ryoma turns slightly until he can peek over his shoulder at his nephew. He inhales, and with a deep, dramatic sigh, he says, "A week here, and I have not seen my nephew."

A click of his tongue.

"How unfortunate. And here I had brought a gift for him..." He peeks at Kana, a coy smile on his lips.

Ethereal Ball 2021

Kana could smell Ryoma before he could see him. Not that it was a bad thing, not at all! It was simply that Ryoma’s scent was more definable in his nose than, say, Black Eagles Student no. forty-nine. The unfortunate thing was that his scent got lost in the overwhelming maze of others’ at the ball—enough that he swore his nose was playing tricks on him. There’s no way he was here, right...?

Well, Shiro was here. Why not his papa? 

It’s the sound of his voice, however, that confirms his presence. Grey eyes snap wide open when Ryoma speaks, and just before he finishes his teasing comment, Kana spins around on the ball of his foot and screeches in delight. 

“Lord Uncle Ryoma!”

Tiny arms fly around the older man’s neck, tugging him down for a tight embrace. His face buried in Ryoma’s chest, and were it not for his carefully-combed hair that night, he probably would have noogied his own head against him until it hurt while trying to nuzzle him. 

After a moment, his head pops up to stare upwards. 

“Wait, did you say gift? What gift? Do you have a present for me?”

[caemthe-a]

raijima replied to your post: “Getting married, huh? Must be nice…”

don’t get too emo there buddy, just remember, marriage always ends in disaster ^^

“Listen, I went through a hellish training to get my spouse, I’m getting my spouse!”