[fic] bloomed & withered (3)
朝顔 : asagao
Mikazuki finds that summer afternoons in the citadel is much more pleasant than in the castle - firstly it's the clean air of the mountains, he muses as he takes a short sip of his tea. Osaka may have had pleasant air for an urban area but it's the fresh crispness of cold, clear mountains he's been chasing for ever since his creation. For a fairly youthful Sage, he sure has impeccable taste in location.
He exhales, feeling the roof of his mouth sting and the tip of his nose freeze. Mikazuki absolutely loves this feeling.
Next is the beautiful scene of seasons that blankets the courtyard every morning. The Sage has a garden spanning across acres, even larger than what Hideyoshi had in Osaka, but to Mikazuki it feels somewhat he's overlooking nature undisturbed. The rows of flowers, though ever-changing through the seasons, are always at bloom and the even longer rows of bunched trees can make for a wonderful forest, only if they were grown tighter. For some reason, it vaguely resembles Toyotomi's courtyard - vast & scenic. Hideyoshi loved to impress and his gardening was no shy at all.
Right now, nature is at it's peak. Boasting bright colors and a tall sun, even at Summer, the air stayed fresh and cool.
"Mikazuki-sama," A voice announces it's arrival in a soft and gentle way, almost like melting ice cream. "May I join you?"
He isn't surprised when he turns to see it's Ichigo and nods for the other to sit. Ichigo pours himself his own cup of tea and takes a short sip, it's hot. Mikazuki's cup was no longer steaming.
The Awataguchi male puts the cup down on his side and starts, his eyes staring out just as Mikazuki is. "Thank you for taking care of my brothers today, as usual." He chuckles, inciting a curious stare from the other. "Not long ago, you had just joined us and now you're the captain of the front lines, leading my brothers into Edo."
"How polite of you, Ichigo!" Mikazuki smirks. "It's only natural for comrades to look after each other, so you don't need to thank me anymore."
There really isn't much to be said actually. Formalities like this in the citadel are not uncommon, but Mikazuki has been residing in the citadel far longer than most have been - he's been procured and animated by the Sage through special and very, very private means. Sure, Ichigo was discovered much more earlier than Mikazuki but he didn't wait long to meet the Sanjou after. There's a blank look on the eldest brother's face, which Mikazuki knows all too well, so with a long drink he asks, "Is there something else on your mind?"
Ichigo looks shocked, shaken almost like he's been found out, but he's always been quick to compose himself and brave whatever trials that are testing him. "I-um," Though at speaking, he's not exactly the best to recover at. "Um, I just, if you're alright with it... I want to know what my life has been before."
With a knowing grin, Mikazuki hands the other his cup and looks down at his sandals. There is a considerably long silence as Ichigo pours the other more tea before he speaks, "You were definitely Hideyoshi's treasured sword. He held you tight at his deathbed, and even tighter in battle." Ichigo hands him his cup and he takes a quick sip, then scoffs. "Honestly, I was jealous you were wielded by such a historical Master but I won't deny, I enjoyed my peaceful life in the castle too. Lady Nene was a worthy Master of mine, I immediately grew fond of her and felt the need to protect even though she has never raised me up battle before."
Ichigo's head is bowed when Mikazuki looks up from his cup, prompting him to continue. "We- used to be in a partnership and often sat down to drink tea like this." It's a statement that bewilders Ichigo, their eyes meeting finally and Mikazuki smiles gently. "Our first conversation was about Winter, about the snow and my imprisonment in the Ashikaga Castle. We used to wear kimonos too."
After much has been said, Ichigo remains silent for the rest of the afternoon and just allows Mikazuki to continue. Before approaching the male, he's felt a certain gap in his chest and somehow, it doesn't feel filled but at the very least, amended. Oddly, he thinks he's felt this way before but disregards it when Mikazuki takes his last sip.
"Thank you for listening to this old man ramble." The Sanjou sword thanks and immediately, ups and strides away to the horse stables. He doesn't even consider looking over his shoulder to see the eldest Toushiro look pleased with himself.
If there was anything to wrap this whole lifestyle in the citadel, then it was definitely the people in it. Not just Shishiou who often accompanied him, or Kogitsunemaru. Neither was it either of the three Kotetsu brothers who were always with him, nor was it Tsurumaru, a Gojou sword that he instantaneously clicked with. It was Ichigo and his desire to chase the past, despite claiming to have no memory or intention of it. He was absolutely a living nightmare, but in some sick twisted way, Mikazuki had thought it was a nice burst of nostalgia all at once.
It's only when he's curled up next to Shishiou, crying silently, he realizes that nothing could ever compensate for the living paradox that was Ichigo Hitofuri.
Most of the time, Mikazuki goes through with any Internal Affairs he's assigned to. Field work, though his greatest enemy, nothing stops him to crouch down over the soil. Not even his back. Today, however, for Horsekeeping, he's paired with Ookanehira and the male is just so filled with vitality, he insists on having Mikazuki rest for a while. Barely even getting a chance to do some heavy-lifting on his own, all he's been doing is combing and untangling the horse's manes since morning. He likes to think he's doing as much as Ookanehira, and almost decisively, they're done with chores by noon. Soon after, Ookanehira was put on an expedition. Perhaps the male had too much energy.
As usual, Mikazuki is perched on the south veranda, overlooking the gardens this time. It seems like the Secretary of the week has assigned extra duties, such as trimming the shrubbery to the Minamoto swords and replanting to the Spears. Otegine is over-towering and watching Hizamaru, who seems to have lost something in the bushes, whilst his brother is cutting away ahead. Nihongou and Tonbokiri are clearly lost in conversation, not reacting to when Hizamaru goes 'yes!' and brandishes a matching pair of shears similar to his brother's. Somehow, it becomes a norm whenever someone notices Mikazuki and offers tea. It's a gracious norm, especially when it's Otegine who notices. He knows exactly how Mikazuki likes his tea to be brewed and does so without so much of a word, only matching his eyes to Mikazuki's and a silent nod.
The tall male informs his friends as he heads up to the halls, and behind Mikazuki he greets somebody before walking off. Normally, and most definitely usually, the attendant always busies themselves one way or another. But not Honebami. Unlike most wakizashis who become attendants, Honebami is under the Master's tight scrutiny and prefers to keep the silver-haired boy close, for various reasons. Since it appears like Honebami is carefully strolling around the citadel, the Master must be consumed by his studies to not want Honebami's presence anymore. The boy's purpose now is just to do his duty and serve in any way he can - an arguably empty trait passed between his brothers. Surely, he has some goal in mind but out of the three, Honebami is the least active in seeking closure. In fact, sometimes it gets infuriating when he uses his amnesia to get around certain things but Mikazuki doesn't think much of him. They rarely cross paths after all.
"Will I be of any use to the Master again soon, Honebami-kun?" Mikazuki casually asks, knowing fully that the boy is still keeping his eyes trained on the garden. Honebami has always been a reclusive individual, choosing to speak when input is critical. Mikazuki knows this, and yet, it comes across as a surprise to him when the other refuses to reply.
Now he can't tell which side the ball is going to land on: nostalgia or discomfort.
"Do I know you?"
The sudden yelp from one of the Spears startles Mikazuki, but not enough to distract him from the sudden question. He looked over his shoulder once and looks back to watch Minamoto brothers. He forgets that once Honebami picks up a lead on his memories, he starts pursuing relentlessly as if one chase would lead him to a direct answer. Well, he wasn't wrong but Mikazuki was not offering the truth for a dollar. Just because he had let an old habit slip, doesn't mean it requires a direct explanation.
"Of course, we used to." He forces a laughter and he's astounded by how it's not any different from his usual chuckle. "We used to be prized swords of the Ashikaga Family."
"I'm sorry but I do not remember my past." is Honebami's automatic response, to literally almost anything. Mikazuki doesn't blame him, he has been charred and re-tampered with quite a few more times than either of his brothers so it's to be expected he'd turn out like this.
"I see." Otegine bends down to serve his tea, signalling Honebami to gather himself. "Let's get along together from now on, shall we?"
"Alright."
And with that, Honebami continues with his duties. Otegine offers a cup and senses something wrong with the Sanjou sword's peaceful state. "Is there something wrong? Did I brew the wrong tea?"
"No, of course not." Mikazuki takes a sip and watches a butterfly fluttering closely to a Morning Glory. "You did excellent brewing this, Otegine."
The Spear is glowing when he stalks over to the others.
If he was correct, there was a Morning Glory bush in that household as well. He lowers his cup and stares down at it.
Rice tea.
As if fate was mocking him, Mikazuki only sighs and follows up with a lonely laugh.
Mikazuki witnesses the sky above him crumble before he acknowledges the slow and breathing fire. He's with Tenka when it starts as a crackle, quickly spreading into a loud roar as it consumes the oak floors and beams. The screen doors incinerate almost immediately, then the people who were too slow to escape. It's a mess of panic and worry when Mikazuki actually registers what is happening and the mass hysteria catches to him, translating soon into an announcement as he turns to Tenka.
"I need to be with her." He says seriously, and if he had known that this would be the last time they ever meet, he probably would have given a gentler face and a soft kiss. Tenka nods, fully in acknowledgement and withdraws first, as if he was being called to by Hideyori. He looks at the falling debris and listens to the terrified screams for a moment before he decides to materialize at where Lady Nene is.
As her sword, he can feel every heartbeat that is heightened in a moment of stress or fear. Lady Nene, as expected, doesn't seem to be handling the situation calmly and instead is running into every roadblock. The servants are urging her to escape quickly to the stairs and in only just a moment, the stairs were ruined by burnt wood and heavy ceramic turquoise tiles. She is fleeing unharmed without the servants. In the wreckage, elite or not, people are screaming and running from slowly burning but quickly collapsing building. Fortunately for them, Lady Nene is already out of the castle's compounds when a wave of heat spreads and the fire blazes even more brightly, more eagerly, followed by a morbid and terrifying sound of wood smack against each other. The loudness comes gradually, the dust and smoke tracking later.
Amidst the destruction and discord of the Siege, she routes her own path through the back. She doesn't stop, because if she does, surely they would catch her and her flesh too would become soot and ash like the rest. She doesn't even bother to look back and see how her own son is doing because one day, it was inevitable. Hideyori was bait for disaster and though she feels a little remorse, she couldn't possibly feel anymore love for him than she had for Hideyoshi. He was not her own.
Somewhere in the middle of traversing through the border of Osaka to Kyoto, Mikazuki prays to whichever God is observing them. He prays for his Master's safety, having betrayed the Toyotomi Crest that he wears over his heart. He doesn't dare to look at the billowing smoke, soaring tall and imposing. He doesn't dare and turns away from the bloody imagination of Tenka's sad smile just before they separate. He pleads, when Nene is taken in as a nun, that Tenka would be somewhere, unscathed and safe. It is only there, he notices the dark stain against the orange horizon.
To this day, the memory of fleeing the Osaka Castle still haunts him. Even behind closed eyes, he can still see the flames up-close and sometimes, they would lick at his image of the Hitofuri then. His skin melts into dust, just like any memory they had together prior to that day.
Tsurumaru is very approachable, and by that, he will look for any opportunity to gossip and tease people. With Mikazuki, he's a tad little different. They find it easy to confide in each other since they were forged in almost the same school - okay maybe Tsurumaru might not be a Sanjou sword, but he's still an apprentice sword if anything. The two are taking a walk at night, observing shriveled leaves collect at their feet, when Mikazuki tells him.
"Okay?" is Tsurumaru's confused reply. His expression is, not really confused, but it's weird to see such a weird mix of a gaze directed at him. Mikazuki bites his own lips. "Well, I think you should tell him though."
The moonbeam scatters down on them through the leaves of the trees they're walking under, and Mikazuki sees the worry now. Naturally, the younger would be like this but Mikazuki's confident in his decision. "I'm fine, Tsurumaru. If fate has decided for us to be estranged, then perhaps it's time for me to let it go. It certainly is a memory that is faint and brief after all."
Although it's Summer now, the night breeze nips at their noses. Tsurumaru sniffles. "No, I mean you're not eve-"
"Tsurumaru," He silences the white-haired boy almost instantly, stopping with his arms crossed under the sleeves of his sleeping yukata. The headpiece he normally wears to battle jingles quietly as he turns around and lets the moon highlights his back. To Tsurumaru, he almost looks like a shadow, appearing just for a short second like a human before vanishing. He wonders why Mikazuki keeps that headpiece on to sleep. "Our lives are short in our human forms. I'd rather not waste my time reminiscing, than serving dutifully under our Master."
"That's horrible." Tsurumaru frowns, almost softly. "You're killing yourself."
Mikazuki fondly smiles, reassuringly, and reaches a hand out to Tsurumaru's to squeeze it. "No, I'm not." He continues down the path, his tiny frame shivering in the temperatures. "If I was, I would have died with Tenka Hitofuri then."
When he crawls under Shishiou's blankets that night, he keeps his headpiece on. It keeps him from remembering his chin on the crown of his head.
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