[fic] bloomed & withered (4)
桜草 : sakurasōu
On some particular spring mornings, Mikazuki finds tea to be too bland.
He grieves this secretly because he's been raised on drinking tea, back when he was forged till now. It's definitely a loss for a soul, like his, cultured in Heian Period to start disliking tea. However, whether it's because his taste buds are too used to the distinctiveness of tea leaves or his old age catching up to his instincts, Mikazuki just agrees when Tsurumaru suggests drinking coffee for once. It's a rare commodity in the citadel, being the only other person who drinks coffee is Aruji, so it's definitely surprising when Tsurumaru discloses his large collection. How he manages to keep them all stashed away from his roommates remains a mystery.
"It's quite bitter, so I think you should drink a sweeter one first."
He goes through large canisters, all claiming to be instant. Mikazuki wonders what is even the process to make coffee, and why is it so popular amongst the teenage customers that visit their citadel daily? From the small crowd of girls he's spoken to during the last tour, they say it's a mighty way of staying awake during the night. Even though tea has been claimed to have caffeine properties, it can't compare to the strength of a single coffee seed. He watches as Tsurumaru throws in a few spoons of powder into a pot and stir it with the hot water inside. The mixture doesn't seem that intense, in fact, it looks a little colorful.
"Why is it green, Tsurumaru?" He asks, peering over the lid before the younger closes the top. "Is coffee supposed to be vibrant like this?"
"No, coffee is supposed to be dark and brown-ish!" Tsurumaru looks pleasantly genuine as if it brings him much joy to explain what coffee is. Perhaps it is fascination, Mikazuki thinks as he gazes at the other. He's never seen this kind of face on Tsurumaru before. The younger boy is swirling the pot as if to dissolve the contents and distribute the taste around. "This is Instant Matcha Latte. Um, I thought having green tea coffee would help you get acquainted with the taste, and it's not that bitter too."
"-green tea coffee?"
"Ah, it's not actually green tea, but it's supposed to mimic the taste of green tea." Tsurumaru explains, "It's also instant, I have no idea what that means but I find it ways sweeter than real green tea. Anyways, I think it should be appropriate to drink it now."
When Tsurumaru pours, there's a tall tower of steam coming from the spout as green vivid liquid spills out. Years since their physical manifestation, Tsurumaru has gotten more knowledgeable at many arts and it seems like coffee, although an uncommon topic in the citadel, is one of those arts. He's still the best at story-telling, Mikazuki prefers as he thinks to himself, a worthy man to hold the title of History's Tour Director. And although Tsurumaru was cultivated in the Heian Period, like himself, perhaps change is not a bad idea.
He brings the drink to his lips, testing the temperatures before taking a tasteful sip.
"So how is it?" He asks, his excitement glowing through that honest smile of his.
"Hm," He lets it sit on his tongue for a little, judging the bitter rawness of a potentially addictive consumption. "It's alright, not as good as tea but I like it."
Tsurumaru rejoices in a way that reminds Mikazuki of what their Aruji has told him before. A feeling that is akin to love, but more rooted. He can't remember what the term was, but he doesn't find there to be any drastic shift except more fondness over the other. Perhaps, unlike the phenomenon of meeting your destined soulmate, this feeling is more natural and instinctive. A love that can be kind yet fierce, tough yet rewarding, and all the while heart-warming. The way Tsurumaru rambles on, his eyes shining and smile distracting-it's gratifying, just like when Mikazuki would treasure Namazuo on days they're alone together before having their partners return to begone the loneliness.
Just like the coffee though, there's just no other feeling that can replace what he had lost, no matter how identical.
"It's been years since the war waged on the History Retrograding Army. The fight is still not done but we, the swords that protect our master, have realized an even more important mission." Shokudaikiri explains as he guides the group through the halls displaying all the past warriors and samurais of Japan. "We have realized that the importance of historical figures is fading, hence why we have built this museum in their remembrance."
He finally comes to a halt before multiple passages, decorated with many mementos regarding many important historical heads. "Feel free to explore the museum further at your own discretion. Our history attendants are on stand-by to answer any questions."
Just as the crowd is about to disperse, a figure comes diving into the middle of the crowd with a sword in hand. He lands all curled up and as he uncoils from his position, he invites the crowd with his cheerful smile. "All those interested in the history of this citadel, please make two lines before my sword."
Just as told, people instantly queue up for Tsurumaru's portion of the tour, much to Shokudaikiri's repeated disbelief, so he slips next to the appointed Tour Director and winces. "Your landing seemed a little off, your legs okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine." He smirks, smug, and jabs the hilt of his sword at Shokudaikiri's shoulder. "Go ahead and get the next group. Horikawa already collected all their payment."
"Right." The Masamune-lookalike sword affirms and heads off.
Once the visitors have settled down from Tsurumaru's surprising entrance, he leads them down a different hall that is decorated with no descriptions or statues but just pictures. Even though he doesn't have a voice as booming as Shokudaikiri's or a voice that commands attention like Hasebe's, he trusts in his voice to resonate with people. "Firstly, thank you for being deeply interested in our everyday lives. It's only popular because of the citizen's requests. We all express our sincerest thanks to you for supporting us every day with our endeavors."
He stops by a mural of candid photos of the swords, all surrounding a sign that says 'Hall of Everyone's Everyday'. "To give you all a run-down about ourselves first and foremost, there are about 80 of us living in the citadel. We were all born at different eras and the historical figures that have shaped Japan, used us as their tools to make it possible. Now, we all serve one master and we all collectively have one mission only - to protect Japan's past."
He gestures the guests to get closer to the mural, "However, on our off days, we're either here as your museum attendants or back in the citadel making a sustainable living for ourselves. In our citadel, our key motto is 'Everyone is family' regardless of what schools or eras we hail from. Swords born in the Heian period are highly respected and sword born more recently in the Edo period are encouraged to study about their predecessors."
"He may not look like it," Tsurumaru points at a picture of Izuminokami posing cooly in front of a mountain of laundry, "but Hijikata Toushirou's sword, Izuminokami Kanesada, is our youngest sword and we all like to tease him a lot."
"To sustain for ourselves and learn the importance of depending on others, we get assigned to different duties in pairs every day." He extends a finger at a photo of himself with his farming hat on and a hoe, while Ookurikara fails to escape in the background. "Unless we're out on a mission, we all get excited who gets to be today's secretary, farmers, horse-keepers, sparring coaches, in-house doctors, teachers, housekeepers and et cet tera! The list really goes on. It's exciting because we get to challenge ourselves every day with different roles, and if we're familiar with our duty, then we can only strive to better ourselves than before! And even if we are not assigned a role, we get to pass the time by doing something recreational."
"Speaking of recreation, every once in a while, our Master appoints someone to organize a mass-bonding for the season and not only does it allow us to strengthen our camaraderie, we get to know and learn about each other's past." His eyes land on a picture of Ichigo and Mikazuki sitting under the huge sakura tree in their farm, having a picnic and sharing sake. Just seeing the sight of them looking somewhat happy almost distracts him, but he carries on confidently as he points out to other pictures like their beach trip or laser tag day. "Since some of us might have encountered each other before through our previous owners, there may have been gaps or misunderstandings that may have been left unspoken for years and so, our recreational activities are important to all of us who are resting in the citadel."
They've been in this scenario before but in different lifetimes and different bodies.
Mikazuki is lying in bed, overcome by hay fever, and the cold from the winter still sits on their shoulders like tendrils. It's been slowly diffusing but not entirely since their prefecture has really long winters. Ichigo has been sitting by his side, keeping careful watch as Yagen has advised. Occasionally, he would refill the pot with new hot tea - despite not having been drunk from - and replace the cold towel that rests on Mikazuki's forehead. He really has no reason to be here, actually. He was just the first person Yagen had thought of to reach out to, and so he's sitting here, in silent wait for the sick one to arouse from his sleep.
Mikazuki makes a familiar sound as he moves, regaining his consciousness. Instead of being awoken by a sharp and violent knee, Ichigo is startled by Mikazuki's yawn. His eyes are unfocused, he notes as the elder sword scans the room.
Ichigo reaches for the towel sticking to the other's forehead and squeezes out its contents into the bucket. "Help yourself to the castella. I need to report to Yagen that you're awake."
But just like before, Mikazuki always surprises him. A small hand, soft and weak, wraps around his leg and when Ichigo whips back around, Mikazuki is pale. "Am I... in Hideyoshi's castle again?"
Ichigo rests a hand over Mikazuki's forehead and pulls back when he finds it hotter than before. He immediately replaces the towel back on his forehead and reaches out for Mikazuki's trembling hand. "No, you're in a citadel at the outskirts of Miyagi." He replies hesitantly, unsure if the other can even hear him.
He doesn't realize earlier, but Mikazuki's hand is ice cold, so he clasps it between both of his own and rubs it in some sort of attempt of retrieving heat. Mikazuki's breathing gets faster, and tears are slowly lining his face as he shakes in his futon. Ichigo can only imagine what he is going through, whether because of the fever or some other internal reason, it looked painful. He also believes he's back when they were still familiar with each other, in a lifetime Ichigo has no memory of.
Suddenly Mikazuki's eyes are locked on his, still unfocused but clear enough to identify him. "Tenka... you're here." He ends with a pained smile and shuts his eyes once again, the tears overflowing as he struggles to breathe - Ichigo is frozen in place.
With a sigh, as if he's able to have a moment's rest, the hand wrapped in Ichigo's tightens and a smile graces Mikazuki's whitened face. "How I really missed you, Tenka. And even if you're different now, I still love you."
The former sword stiffens, hands limp around Mikazuki's tight one. He sits in shock as he lets the other continue between breaths. "He's definitely not the same, but I see little pieces of you in him every day. Undoubtedly, he's not you, but every day I find a new reason to love him just like how I loved you. It's just a weird blend of familiar and strange in him."
Slowly, and steadily, Mikazuki's eyes open again, still fogged up with delusion. "You're different people, and despite that, what I wouldn't give to have an equal partnership with him. I hope you forgive me for falling for you again."
And just like earlier, unexplained and sudden, he slowly drifts back into sleep. Ichigo sinks against the closet, registering what had just happened and all the truths that had just unveiled. Ever since he arrived at the citadel, Mikazuki has always kept silent about their past unless asked. He often spends his time with Tsurumaru and Shishiou, that he hardly ever gets to have meaningful interactions with the other. And now he just lays bare a huge secret he's been keeping under the sleeves for a while. Confused and speechless, he just leaves the room.
They're sitting under the sakura tree, sharing sake between themselves as the other swords fool around with a camera that Mutsunokami had just gotten.
They're both dressed in their summer kimonos the master has issued to all of them, donning different crests over their hearts. With feet folded beneath them, Ichigo pours sake into a saucer for Mikazuki - it's just as tradition calls for. He was thankful that he had observed Nihongou's and Jiroutachi's weekly rituals to prepare him for this exact moment. How shameful would it be for him to show a lack of grace before the most renown Heavenly Sword in Japan? In fact, he should be honored.
"I don't think you remember confessing, but I'd like to be in an equal partnership with you too," Ichigo says after he takes a sip out of his own saucer, startling the other to almost spit out his drink.
"What?" Mikazuki inquires, desperate and shaken for an explanation.
Ichigo smiles, the sakura petals fluttering aimlessly as the wind blows over their shoulders. "I really gave it some thought. How we used to be equals in the past, how different we are now. You might remember everything, but you're not the same Mikazuki from that era now. I just couldn't find a reason to return your feelings, except for one."
Mikazuki is silent, unprepared for whatever his answer may be. He really should be, but at this point, he's way past getting answers and just wants to avoid getting one. But really, how as he to respond if Ichigo declines him? He puts down the stick of dango he's been holding on to, waiting for Ichigo's reply. However the other male doesn't seem to notice and takes another sip, and this only makes his heart race faster.
"This is my first time feeling romantic feelings for anyone in this lifetime, and it's because you're you. Nothing I can say will describe why I feel nothing but love for you, except you're just yourself. You are Mikazuki and I've always eyeballed you since I arrived. I only really became aware of it while you were sick and calling out for... my former self."
Ichigo's voice was soft and vulnerable, the sudden variation of texture nearly caught Mikazuki off-guard. To think that despite their lack of interaction, he was already confiding in him but understandably, he had been meaning to do the same. After Shishiou's coaxing, of course.
"Just as I thought." Mikazuki turns to the falling petals and reaches his hand out to it. "You like Spring for another reason." He chuckles softly, looking down at his reflection in the sake. "You said it was nice because it matched your hair and the roof tiles at the castle, but you like it because it gives you a chance at new beginnings, right?"
For some reason, Ichigo is baffled but he grunts in confirmation as he takes a sip out of his sake.
"To new beginnings for us."
A snap captures their moment for an eternity, and is now remembered by anyone that walks through the 'Hall of Everyone's Everyday'.