Meh. Took me long enough.
Meh. I still don't really like the characterization, but here's the
Himura-san was pacing again. He had been at it all night, when he wasn't attempting to peer out the heavily cobwebbed window into the darkness or unsheathing his sword and staring at the blade.
One would think that he was displeased by the sleeping arrangements; his continued blush was faintly visible in the dim quarters. It amused her to no end - she had often slept in the same room with her younger brother, and this hardly felt any different to her.
He finally came to a stop, turning to her, and said, “What happens now?”
“That is up to you. Although, in the immediate future, I would advise sleeping.”
He sat across from her, sighing. “I trust Katsura-san. I respect him. But I have to wonder what he's thinking, buying into such a silly old prophecy.”
Tomoe raised an eyebrow. “I 'buy into' that 'silly old prophecy' as well, you know.”
He looked surprised for a moment before hiding behind his same old impassive mask. “Maybe. But you're an Empty. No offense,” he quickly added at her flinch. She knew he did not mean it.
She said nothing, however, instead groping in the dark for her old traveling bag. It had been her father's, from what she had heard, and it was one of her few prized possessions in spite of the heavy patchwork and the tattered state of its carrying straps. She opened it, removing a substantial leather tome with a well-worn cover, marked with peculiar, indecipherable symbols belonging to an unfamiliar tongue. Aside from these marks, however, there was nothing spectacular about the book - at least, not on the surface. “This is the legend, in its original form. It has been passed down through my family for generations, as long as anyone can recall.
Himura-san scooted closer, squinting at the cover in the weak light cast by a single flickering candle. “Can you read that?”
“No. But the entirety of the story had been passed down orally from father to son and mother to daughter, and a few parts were written in our language.”
“How do you even know it's for real?”
“I cannot prove it.”
“Then you're probably wasting your time trying to convince me.”
“I have my reasons to believe it to be true. And, with time, so will you. After all, you are the one destined to read it.
He stared at her. “So what do you want me to do, then?”
“As I said, the choice is yours. You can help me to find what it is I seek, or you can choose to remain here.”
“You're looking for something? What?”
“Hmm. May I borrow your sword for a moment?”
Himura-san gave her an incredulous look. “No.”
“Then the answer to your question shall have to wait. Good night.” And with a small, soft breath, she blew out the candle.
Edited because I fail at cuts. .-.
Himura-san was pacing again. He had been at it all night, when he wasn't attempting to peer out the heavily cobwebbed window into the darkness or unsheathing his sword and staring at the blade.
One would think that he was displeased by the sleeping arrangements; his continued blush was faintly visible in the dim quarters. It amused her to no end - she had often slept in the same room with her younger brother, and this hardly felt any different to her.
He finally came to a stop, turning to her, and said, “What happens now?”
“That is up to you. Although, in the immediate future, I would advise sleeping.”
He sat across from her, sighing. “I trust Katsura-san. I respect him. But I have to wonder what he's thinking, buying into such a silly old prophecy.”
Tomoe raised an eyebrow. “I 'buy into' that 'silly old prophecy' as well, you know.”
He looked surprised for a moment before hiding behind his same old impassive mask. “Maybe. But you're an Empty. No offense,” he quickly added at her flinch. She knew he did not mean it.
She said nothing, however, instead groping in the dark for her old traveling bag. It had been her father's, from what she had heard, and it was one of her few prized possessions in spite of the heavy patchwork and the tattered state of its carrying straps. She opened it, removing a substantial leather tome with a well-worn cover, marked with peculiar, indecipherable symbols belonging to an unfamiliar tongue. Aside from these marks, however, there was nothing spectacular about the book - at least, not on the surface. “This is the legend, in its original form. It has been passed down through my family for generations, as long as anyone can recall.
Himura-san scooted closer, squinting at the cover in the weak light cast by a single flickering candle. “Can you read that?”
“No. But the entirety of the story had been passed down orally from father to son and mother to daughter, and a few parts were written in our language.”
“How do you even know it's for real?”
“I cannot prove it.”
“Then you're probably wasting your time trying to convince me.”
“I have my reasons to believe it to be true. And, with time, so will you. After all, you are the one destined to read it.
He stared at her. “So what do you want me to do, then?”
“As I said, the choice is yours. You can help me to find what it is I seek, or you can choose to remain here.”
“You're looking for something? What?”
“Hmm. May I borrow your sword for a moment?”
Himura-san gave her an incredulous look. “No.”
“Then the answer to your question shall have to wait. Good night.” And with a small, soft breath, she blew out the candle.
Edited because I fail at cuts. .-.