open post, cuts ribbon to musebox proudly

[kbcctv]

[The Citadel is huge, so it's a good thing they have all the time in the world to dick around.

--Well, no, they don't. But the point is, it's a free day. There will be absolutely no work done at all. Unless you want to or something. If you do, you're pretty weird.

The dojo is always open for sparring and practice. If there's any sparring errand you've slacked on, now's the chance to make up! The horse stables are also full of activity, whether the horses are being tended to or rode around-- be careful not to let them trample the fields, though, which is full of rice sprouts and budding cabbage. The lake in front of the saniwa(s)' room has tiny frogs jumping about, and you could catch them in the palm of your hand.

The kitchen is full of food, if you're volunteering to make lunch or have decided that meal time cannot possibly come any later and you simply must prepare something before you die from starvation. While there has been a considerable effort made to make the Citadel look as homely as possible to the swords which come from Japan's past, there's speckles of technology here and there.

The TV room is a good example, with a huge screen sitting on top of a few console systems. Don't break them, you'll only be getting this luxury once. Take turns and play nice. The swords may also find themselves tending the fields with water sprinklers and hoses instead of watering cans, for instance, or heating up some leftover pie in the fridge instead of making another one from scratch since there's technology to preserve food well over a week. The armory and smithy are definitely a little bit more modern than they'd be back in the past, though much is still made by hand-- nothing beats the fine work of a master. Perhaps you'll have a few new friends today, or you want to try creating a cute little soldier spirits to die for you accompany you in battle. Make sure they enter the orb completely, or else it'll turn brown and crack.

Or perhaps you're one of the unlucky swords still stuck in the repair room, sword body still being re-smelted and fixed. Hope the saniwa is good at making you all shiny. If you want to skip all that waiting, perhaps you can try to use a helper token... but they're all in the saniwa's room! Guess you've got to use that Camouflage stat...

But if you truly cannot bear with staying in the Citadel, the time device the saniwa(s) have isn't locked away. You can go on sorties or expeditions to fill your time with something productive.

Just a warning: don't change the past. You won't succeed.

...You could always try, though.]

Comments

[swordsitter]

[ there's no reason to apologize for hitting him with a book? haru's lips part, surprised as always by some of the things that come out of his sword-spirits' mouths, but then they thin again. how.. should he even respond to something like that? and then on the heels of that, yamato asks a question he should never have to wonder about, and-- and honestly, haru should have expected it. he's been irritable today, and given some of these blades and their histories, he really should have had more self-control.

he hesitates, then takes the book carefully from yamato's hands, setting it down on the branch beside him. he reaches out, then, curling his arms around the other man and tugging him closer, resting his chin on the top of the tousled head. ]

.. I was in the wrong, Yamato-kun, and if I do something wrong, I'm always going to apologize for it. You shouldn't-- [ his fingers curl in yamato's clothes, white-knuckled for a moment. ] You shouldn't have to dodge, because I shouldn't be throwing things at you. [ he pulls back, then, to meet his eyes, his own as serious as they've ever been. ] And I'm not bothered by any of you, I just.. [ he colours faintly, gaze sliding away. ] I just need a little time to myself sometimes. I'm not.. exactly good at this job. It's kind of overwhelming.

[ that's.. probably the most words he's strung together at one time in a while. it's not to say that haru doesn't talk, but he's not exactly chatty, and he prefers to listen when he can instead. he feels like he's constantly behind the curve, running to catch up, to learn everything he can, to be better and stronger and worthy of being.. someone that they give their loyalty to. it's probably no surprised that he snapped a little today. stress he can handle, given his life prior to this, but this kind of stress is on a whole new level. ]

[inamorati]

[ from yasusada's point of view, several things stand out. a) books aren't exactly lethal projectiles, and it's practically nothing compared to what he faced on the battlefield daily. b) he is his master's sword. even after having been manifested doesn't change that, and his master is allowed to do whatever he wants to with him, even if it's launching books in his general direction. c) he hadn't dodged because his knee-jerk reaction had been to almost draw his sword and slice the book in half, and in actively curbing that urge he hadn't had time to do anything but to let himself be hit, so really, it's his own fault that it happened. d) he could never fault haru for doing anything to him. it's in his nature as a sword to be deeply in love with his wielder, no matter who they are and how they act. from a practical point of view, and in which yasusada is always nothing but practical, the thrown book was not worth the breath used for the apology.

but haru's point of view is equally as important, if not more-so. no matter how he personally feels on the subject, it seems that haru felt badly about the incident, and it's not yasusada's place to counsel him otherwise. therefore, he's very surprised when he's suddenly pulled into a hug, warmth settling in on the surface of his head. haru's words surprise him even more, colours his feelings of warmth with sadness. being a fairly quiet sword himself, he's always respected in turn haru's taciturn nature, and while he may not truly understand haru's sentiments, he can at least understand that the fact that he is speaking so much must mean that these thoughts must've weighed on him quite a bit.

it makes his heart hurt. he's not particularly good at comforting others, doesn't know what to say really. but haru tries hard for them, he knows. for all these swords, and he owes it to his master to at least try, no matter how awkwardly. first, he reaches up with a hand, tilting his head up carefully so that he can see his master's face. seeing as he's under a branch and not quite tall enough to reach, he misses his mark, and is only able to pat haru's cheek, not his head as was intended. ]

Please don't sell yourself so short, Haru-sama. You were able to manifest so many of us; including me, and I am known to be difficult to use. [ he says this patiently, with his usual straight-forward honesty, each and every word sincere. ] You lead us to battle. You keep us safe with your strategies. You repair us when we're hurt, and you grieve for us when we fall.

[ and he knows that not all swords were ever grieved for when they fell. that at least one human being was able to watch their passing and cry for them is already more than they could've hoped for. yamato had never been grieved for, either, after okita-kun's death. to know that someone can witness his passing this time is for him, personally, a source of comfort. he goes on. ] You are a good master, and I am proud to serve you. You are worthy of my loyalty. I doubt I am the only one who feels this way. Your impact not always something that you can see with the eye. [ you only need to ask, and you'll hear it.

finally, he lowers his hand, and then his head. it feels odd to nod in deference when he's in an embrace, something that breaches the boundaries of their master and sword relationship, but he also owes it to haru to say this much. ]

If anything, I should be apologizing to you. If I could perform better, I could make it easier for you. But I can't ask you for your forgiveness [ and here yamato pauses again. hesitates. ] -- because I am glad that you are here.

[ glad that despite his feelings, the stress, how overwhelming it must be-- that he is still here and has yet to leave them. it gives him respect for his master, honour and dignity.

as the last words leave his lips, however, an uncharacteristic panic sets in. he very rarely talks this much as well, word after word tumbling forth like he's trying to put feelings to words and being extremely inadequate of it. a twinge of fear-- what if his words are off the mark, if they don't help, if they somehow make things worse? his face colours, feeling impudent, and he ducks his head in uncharacteristic shyness. ] I'm sorry, Haru-sama. I've... said too much. I apologize.

[swordsitter]

[ the truth is, haru often worries about becoming his parents. they're not awful people, but they're lazy, they haven't cared about their kids in years, and when they're drinking, they can become belligerent. they're not actively abusive, but haru's had to duck a fist or a thrown bottle every now and then. he doesn't talk about his home life, though, because as far as he's concerned, it has no bearing on his work here. part of his terms for accepting this duty was that his siblings would be cared for while he was gone, and since he knows that they're in good hands, he doesn't have much reason to share. his immediate apology about throwing the book, therefore, probably did seem a little pointless, but to haru, between his blades' insistence on being considered objects and his concerns about his parents.. well, it was absolutely necessary.

he blinks as the hand finds his cheek, a little startled by the gesture. some of the blades are affectionate with him like that, but this is the first time yamato's done anything of the sort. the reassuring words, the apology-- he finds his face heating. blades, generally speaking, love their masters. he knows it's natural and instinctive for yamato to care about him. but even so.. hearing it laid out like that.. and he's so, so grateful that the spirit thinks he's doing an adequate job, because haru often has doubts about it.

he fidgets when yamato's finished speaking, silent for several moments. embarrassed and not certain how he should respond, he finally just huffs and leans down, dropping a quick, almost familial kiss on the top of the spirit's head. ]

.. You all already do enough. I couldn't make it if I didn't have all of you helping me. [ that's the honest truth. sure, it's up to him to make the decisions in the end, but he doesn't do that without consulting with his more tactically-minded blades. he's only too glad to take the advice of older and wiser souls. ] And-- [ his mouth presses thin, the blush fading, face a little pale beneath it. ] --I really, really hope I don't have to grieve for any more of you. You're all.. important to me.

[ he's flustered himself again. to mask it, he picks his book up once more, borrowing yamato's shoulder to steady himself as he hops down from the branch, landing lightly in the grass. on the ground, he's.. small, his head just over five feet. between his size and his quiet, he can be pretty easily overlooked-- needless to say, their enemies don't take him seriously at all. ]

.. Um. [ he glances back up again, hugging his book to his chest. ] Anyway, I-- I noticed you seemed interested in my book. You can borrow it after I'm done if you want.

[inamorati]

[ the kiss to his head momentarily flummoxes yasusada. as a general thing, people don't kiss their blades. okita-kun certainly never did, and neither did such a thing happen once yasusada found himself manifested before his current master. the show of almost familial affection makes him feel warm, causes a shy smile to peek out from just above the white of his scarf, coloured pink with delight and love. he feels loved, tenderness slowly but surely slipping into the void that okita-kun had left behind.

he may not fully understand haru's emotions, feelings or motivations. there is so much that he doesn't know about his sage, things that he has no right to ask or to worry about simply because he is a sword and his master is human, and humans ultimately live in a world separate from his-- a brighter, more beautiful one, filled with happiness, sorrow, simple pleasures, grief, untold stories and endless possibilities. upon the completion of his task, upon correcting the wrongs of history and finishing their mission, he is under no illusions as to what will happen to him and his fellow swords-- if they survive that long. his practical take on it is then to simply savour what little he can of this happiness and peace, and to hope that he is able to stand by his master's side for longer than he had been able to stand by okita-kun's side, to defend him when he can from the things that he can, and to be worthy of standing by his side.

therefore, he takes haru's words gratefully. he lets himself be used as a hand-perch, carefully watches haru jump down from the tree in case he needs to intervene. haru is small, yes, one of the few non-tantou individuals in this entire encampment that yasusada actually just barely has height over. but he's never thought anything wrong about haru's height-- after all, unlike with the six-feet-tall saniwas of other camps, their saniwa is easy to pick up, easy to protect from enemy advances because he doesn't make for a very large target. if it comes down to it, even the younger tantous can be used to shield their sage, something that can't be done for the taller sages, and in yasusada's world of battlefield practicality, all of these are great things. he tilts his head, when haru mentions the book, however, lighting up at the same time as a look of mortification crosses his face.

was he that obvious? ah... ]

I would like that. [ finally, his expression settles on a gentler one, a bit of happiness, a bit of excitement, a bit of sheepishness. ] Thank you, Haru-sama.

[ then, something occurs to him, and he tilts his head, intensely sincere. ] If you're looking for another place where you can read quietly, I know a place.

[swordsitter]

[ somehow, eventually, haru is going to find a way to break this belief of his sword-spirits. this.. absolute certainty that their only worth is in their ability to fight. certainly, they may have started out as steel and wood and cord, but don't they have thoughts and emotions and personalities now? they're alive, well and truly, and it doesn't matter to him that they aren't actually human. it's impossible for haru to look at his blades and think of them as dispensable, and maybe that really does make him a bad sage. they do what they have to do, absolutely, but haru won't risk them unnecessarily. he hadn't been joking when he'd said he hoped never to have to grieve for another of them.

the mixed expression on yamato's face earns the quiet huff that serves as haru's laugh, expression warming with amusement. it's.. kind of cute on the blade, and haru's long resigned himself to finding many of the spirits cute. he's.. honestly not even self-conscious about such an un-masculine thought, not considering how attractive literally all of the spirits are or how they interact with him. it's just.. a part of how their relationship works. he's getting used to it. ]

It's okay. Any time you want to borrow a book, you can let me know. I keep them in my room. [ yamato's never shown an interest in reading much before, though, so he's not sure that it'll last this time. even so, he's kind of happy to be able to share his interest with at least one other person. ] .. I have a lot of kids' books, though. I used to read to my brother and sisters.

[ the offer makes him blink, then brighten, pale eyes widening with pleasure. ] Oh, um. Yes, please. That'd be nice.

[inamorati]

[ in the interest of continuing to be honest, yasusada has actually never read a book before. while he knows how to read, swords in general aren't really expected to do so, and he's always valued action over words. he is the sword arm, not the strategist, and his devotion to being the best at what he does leaves him at the mercy of his master, whom he expects and values direction and strategy from. part of the reason for him why he believes his ability to fight defines his worth is that quite literally this is the only thing he can do. the other part lies in his memories of kashuu being cast aside for his broken tip, the lonely days to follow living without kashuu by okita-kun's side. swords who can't fight are useless. why else were they called to this era in the first place?

but living with other swords in an encampment like this has taught yasusada that perhaps there are things that can be done to while away the time between sparring sessions. the fact that haru reads is enough to convince yasusada that reading is a worthwhile pursuit, eager as he is to follow his sage in all the ways. therefore, the offer of more books delights and touches him. pleased, he lowers his head in deference, and then gestures towards the main citadel. ]

This way. Please follow me.

[ as they begin walking, he thinks about the mention of haru's siblings. yasusada admittedly has a very tenuous understanding of family. the toushirou siblings, for example, are family-- but what makes them family is that they came from the same swordsmith, the same school of sword-making. he and kashuu-- they are what you would call 'friends', though he's heard some swords call him and the shinsengumi group to be a family under general terms. couple the various usage of the word and yasusada's very limited grasp on human reproduction, and what you get his a curious, half-baked understanding of what family really is. a part of him almost feels impudent just wondering what sort of family and siblings haru has. after all, it's really none of his business, and it isn't his place to know these things. but haru brought it up first, and he is curious. ]

What are their names? Your siblings. [ it's... an okay question to ask, right? ]

[swordsitter]

[ to be fair, haru can't say he would have reacted any differently if he'd been in any of their previous masters' places. after all, he wouldn't have understood that they retained memories, that they felt, that they would have been awakened one day taking those experiences and emotions and drawing such conclusions from them. it makes him glad that he's where he is right now, because at least like this.. he can do what he can to remove those learned behaviors and thoughts and show them that they have worth beyond what they can do on the battlefield. it's a challenging job, he's quickly learned. some of these blades have hundreds of years of issues to work through, and haru's just one completely inadequate teenager.

at least they have one another, too, and the run of the keep when they aren't out on the front lines. some of them are beginning to learn those things all on their own, and teaching them to one another.

moving to catch up to yamato, he's satisfied with the easy silence as they walk, but glances up at him in surprise at the question. well.. why wouldn't he be interested? haru never talks about his family or his life back home. of course it would be a matter of some question among the others.

he clears his throat, fingers tightening around his book. he.. actually really misses his siblings. maybe that's part of the reason he doesn't talk about them much. ]

Well.. I have three sisters and a brother, all younger than me. [ his ears are going a little red talking about them. ] The next oldest is Chika, and she's thirteen. Then there's Suzu, she's ten. The youngest are Kouta, who's five, and Natsumi. She's two. [ he ducks his gaze to the floor, blush deepening. ] .. Um. I think you'll like them. You know, once all of this is-- When we get to go back. They're good kids.