[ it would surprise anyone-- even haru, clearly. and while some might say, you know, shouldn't the saniwa know his sword-spirits better, haru would tell them politely to go to hell. how was he supposed to know? it's not like he makes it a habit of throwing things at his various blades, and he hadn't meant to throw this, either. he's almost more surprised with how good his aim was this time than actually hitting yamato, but then it registers that the blade hadn't dodged. panic sets in on the heels of that realization, and he almost jumps up and starts clambering down to check on him, but yamato recovers quickly and is already rising to his feet by the time haru is tensing to do so.

he settles again, wincing as the spirit comes closer rubbing his brow. wow, he.. really hopes it doesn't get around that he's suddenly chucking books at people. he's already worried about how appropriate he really is for the job.

blinking at the comment and question, he hesitates, then eases down out of his perch and to a lower series of branches, legs dangling and close enough to reach out now. which.. he does after a moment, fingers brushing away the sword-spirit's to check the mark himself. .. well, it doesn't look too bad, at least.. ]

I think so. Most of what I read isn't exactly deep and thought-provoking literature, though. Just.. escapism, I guess. [ kids' books, stupid teen romances, sci-fi, fantasy, famous foreign novels, that kind of thing. it's probably a little silly now, given what his life has turned into, but before all this started, it was his only real respite.

his fingers fall away and he braces his hands against the limb instead, pale eyes apologetic. haru doesn't emote much even on the best days, but he's surprisingly expressive anyway. ] .. Sorry about hitting you. I wasn't really thinking about it.