Touken Ranbu - Five Senses

Tea, Sakura, and the Moon

It was late, and most of the Citadel's residents had retired for the evening. A gentle breeze traversed the dimly-lit grounds, scattering soft petals across the lawn. Every day they were swept away, and every day more fell. It was an endless battle which seemed to be going nowhere - not totally unlike the war against the Time Retrograde Army which has fought relentlessly to alter the course and flow of time.

Their motives seemed unclear, beyond the supposition that they wished to preserve the age of the samurai. The age of the sword.

Lost in thought, a lone figure sat on the veranda, casting his gaze up at the moon. A few months had passed since he was brought here, and he had fallen in with his newfound comrades rather easily. Their beloved master remained prickly and reclusive, eschewing physical contact except as a reward or consolation.

The rest of the time, she looked disgusted or alarmed. Frustrated, even. The constant flicker of emotions he could watch passing over her face left him asking the same question every time.

Why?

It wasn't as though she disliked her men. Nor was it as though she found them unattractive - he had seen her watch random Touken Danshi with a reserved expression that was never displeased in the slightest. She even smiled at them.

But no matter how friendly she looked, she responded to touch as though it was painful or scary. Despite his asking, she would not say - and no one else seemed to know why, either.

It was a disturbing puzzle which left him fearing a dark revelation. Perhaps abuse, or neglect. Either one was likely. It displeased him to entertain the thoughts, and instead he continued trying to lure her out of this odd shell of hers. Tear down the wall, the physical boundary, and free her to live comfortably as a human should.

It didn't seem to be working. She had already snapped at him more than once.

With a sigh, the man lifted his cup of tea to his lips and let the liquid flow into his mouth, down his throat. How troubling. Glancing skyward as his eyes reflected the moon, he lowered his cup and swallowed the rest of the tea in his mouth before sighing.

"Is something bothering you?" Turning his gaze in the direction of the intruding voice, he met sharp crimson eyes and laughed gently. Furrowing his brows, Kiyomitsu crossed his arms and remained in the shadows of the veranda, leaning against the building's wall as he stared at Mikazuki.

"I am merely concerned. Do you know anything personal regarding our master? I know you are the oldest sword here." That said, he turned his head away, facing back towards the lawn.

There were a few beats of silence, and then a sigh. Mikazuki heard a few pops, a shift in fabric, and then footsteps. Seeing something move into his peripheral vision, he turned his head in time to watch Kashuu plop down on the edge of the veranda next to him with a thump. One leg was dangled over the edge, while the other was pulled up against his chest with an arm wrapped around it. His other hand rested on the floorboard between them, pale skin glowing in the moonlight. "Nothing important. Just that she comes from what is considered a standard home, and is not comfortable with people standing behind her or invading her personal space."

"Ah, I see. Either it's nothing, or it's extremely personal - enough to be something she would not even tell her most trusted." Nodding, he took another sip of tea.

"Most trusted? Me?" Blinking, Kashuu gave him a wide-eyed stare and raised his hand too point a finger back at himself. His brows were raised in surprise.

"Ha ha ha... Of course. You're frequently the Secretary, and also captain on many sorties. It is clear the Master favors you." Setting aside his now-empty cup, he threaded his fingers together in his lap with his head bowed, closing his eyes. "I have not been made secretary or captain even once yet. Perhaps I displease her."