i. [ naturally, it's not just his spirits preparing for tonight. he's done this once before, but that was a year ago and he'd been a brand-new saniwa at the time-- he'd been required to do only the most basic dance, and that had been nerve-wracking and embarrassing enough. this time, as a surprisingly successful saniwa, there's a lot more to do and prepare for. ('surprisingly' because, doubtless, no one had expected a half-trained country bumpkin to actually live this long, much less have such a prosperous citadel and such stalwart spiritual allies.)
it's probably no surprise to his swords, then, that haru's been practicing every spare moment he has, basically anywhere he can, small form moving awkwardly through the steps--though less awkward as the days pass--serious face screwed up with intense concentration.
he's in the courtyard now, actually, in a tank-top and sweatpants rolled halfway up his calves, feet bare in the grass. the spirit that lives in the nearest tree is stretched out over a branch, clearly trying not to laugh at the poor, uncomfortable saniwa, and haru is clearly attempting to ignore her. it's probably why he doesn't notice someone approach-- right up until he spins and runs right into them. immediately, his concentration and what little grace he'd achieved are gone, and he windmills his arms in an attempt to keep his balance, yelping in surprise. ]
iii. We're gonna' be late. We're definitely gonna' be late.
[ haru's been muttering that under his breath for the last minute or so, small hands carefully and quickly--dressing mikazuki sure has paid off--working at some of the more fiddly, decorative bits on the elaborate clothing the organization sent him to wear. he feels stupid, he's sure he looks stupid in such expensive clothes, and what the heck is he expected to do with his hair?
he turns, pale eyes stressed, pretty haircombs still clenched in one hand as if he's considering throwing them (he's not a girl, and he's not a sword-spirit, he'll definitely look dumb in these). despite his concerns, though, this is probably the nicest he's ever looked for his spirits. ]
Are you done? Do you need help?
iv. [ haru's still blushing and shaking a little once he and his spirit finally step off the stage. somehow, he'd managed not to mess up, and he doesn't think he looked too stiff.. hopefully not so much that he'd embarrassed his spirit, anyway. he'd certainly been perfect, anyway, so maybe all eyes had been on him instead of noticing haru.
he takes a deep, relieved breath, a hand lifting to clutch at the fabric over his chest. ]
My heart's still beating like crazy. [ he glances over. ] I'm really sorry I'm no good at this. Hopefully none of the others will tease you about it.
vii. [ that sure is haru trotting up with two candied apples. even now, he's almost unrecognizable in his festival clothing, but his pale eyes, size, and typical expressionlessness is pretty telling, anyway.
he stops, offering one out, pale eyes warming. ] Have you had one of these before?
viii. [ hit me with whatever! most of his prompts are aimed toward swords, but feel free to have other saniwa, spirits, etc. approach him! ]
no subject
[ naturally, it's not just his spirits preparing for tonight. he's done this once before, but that was a year ago and he'd been a brand-new saniwa at the time-- he'd been required to do only the most basic dance, and that had been nerve-wracking and embarrassing enough. this time, as a surprisingly successful saniwa, there's a lot more to do and prepare for. ('surprisingly' because, doubtless, no one had expected a half-trained country bumpkin to actually live this long, much less have such a prosperous citadel and such stalwart spiritual allies.)
it's probably no surprise to his swords, then, that haru's been practicing every spare moment he has, basically anywhere he can, small form moving awkwardly through the steps--though less awkward as the days pass--serious face screwed up with intense concentration.
he's in the courtyard now, actually, in a tank-top and sweatpants rolled halfway up his calves, feet bare in the grass. the spirit that lives in the nearest tree is stretched out over a branch, clearly trying not to laugh at the poor, uncomfortable saniwa, and haru is clearly attempting to ignore her. it's probably why he doesn't notice someone approach-- right up until he spins and runs right into them. immediately, his concentration and what little grace he'd achieved are gone, and he windmills his arms in an attempt to keep his balance, yelping in surprise. ]
iii.
We're gonna' be late. We're definitely gonna' be late.
[ haru's been muttering that under his breath for the last minute or so, small hands carefully and quickly--dressing mikazuki sure has paid off--working at some of the more fiddly, decorative bits on the elaborate clothing the organization sent him to wear. he feels stupid, he's sure he looks stupid in such expensive clothes, and what the heck is he expected to do with his hair?
he turns, pale eyes stressed, pretty haircombs still clenched in one hand as if he's considering throwing them (he's not a girl, and he's not a sword-spirit, he'll definitely look dumb in these). despite his concerns, though, this is probably the nicest he's ever looked for his spirits. ]
Are you done? Do you need help?
iv.
[ haru's still blushing and shaking a little once he and his spirit finally step off the stage. somehow, he'd managed not to mess up, and he doesn't think he looked too stiff.. hopefully not so much that he'd embarrassed his spirit, anyway. he'd certainly been perfect, anyway, so maybe all eyes had been on him instead of noticing haru.
he takes a deep, relieved breath, a hand lifting to clutch at the fabric over his chest. ]
My heart's still beating like crazy. [ he glances over. ] I'm really sorry I'm no good at this. Hopefully none of the others will tease you about it.
vii.
[ that sure is haru trotting up with two candied apples. even now, he's almost unrecognizable in his festival clothing, but his pale eyes, size, and typical expressionlessness is pretty telling, anyway.
he stops, offering one out, pale eyes warming. ] Have you had one of these before?
viii.
[ hit me with whatever! most of his prompts are aimed toward swords, but feel free to have other saniwa, spirits, etc. approach him! ]