ensurer

[ensurer]

       ❝ Ahah, that’s good. I was worried I would end up being late. ❞ That would have been rather disgraceful, for a Kanesada. The fact Byakuya wasn’t any less formal even at home wasn’t all that impressive; surely it would have been a surprise to see him more relaxed, perhaps less serious once he is among friends and now amidst a crowd, but Izumi thinks-- he likes him that way. ❝ I don’t think I’ve ever drank your tea before. But it certainly smells nice. ❞

@ensurer

     The main door to his home opens, and from behind it emerges the noble, appearing even more formal than usual (if that was even possible). His ever-present calmness hasn’t vanished for a second. “You’re right on time, I just finished preparing tea.”

[ensurer]

       It’s something he doesn’t do often, neither of them; but it’s something they should, he feels, because Kanesada knows it feels good, it feels nice -- to hug someone. It’s a sign of affection, and while swords have no knowledge of it, the warmth that two human bodies together could provide was comforting. And it’s rare, but the commander sneaks behind his partner, his most trusted friend and the one person he would trust his life to the most.

       He sneaks behind him, when the wakizashi is too focused on doing the dishes, and wraps his long arms under the smaller boy’s; gently and carefully not to startle him much, bringing his feet off the floor in a warm hug.

@wifeyzashi

[ensurer]

       He doesn’t remember agreeing to this-- maybe it seemed like a good idea at the moment, and hey, it was kinda nice... But for a sword? Silly. Extremely so. Kind of embarrassing, too; and yet with how nice it made him look and the attention he would get, how could Izumi dare to say no? To refuse such a chance? To use those hips of his in ways he had never, and move his body in ways that made him so elegant and charming, more than he could be?

       ❝ Oi, Iwatooshi-- You’re doing it wrong. You just need to move your hips a bit, but that was a lot! It delays you a lot to move to the next position and we get off sync. ❞ When had Kanesada become so invested in that that he was starting to lecture his dancing partners?

    {薙} — "Maybe someday, I’ll be your NO. 1  ♪ !”

    Iwatooshi edged his hip out slightly, slightly – only he hadn’t taken into account that his slightly was much larger than Kanesada’s slightly – and that the force of his thrust in the wrong direction would wind up costing them precious time. Or that it would possibly be painful.

    Well, it was practice. 

@ensurer , @saintseiyasword

[ensurer]

Reblog and fill in with details about your muse as if they were a character in a Dating Sim. (Inspired by Huniepop)

Name: Izuminokami Kanesada Their Profession: Model, Host at Wadokei Cafe, (Vice) Commander of the Shinsengumi. Where they can be found: Either at the Shinsengumi HQ or Wadokei. Favorite food type: He goes more for traditional japanese food, so a lot of rice. Dangos are really fucking good. He doesn’t like fast-food too much, though he can still eat them. Fish is always a go, as well as meat. Favorite alcoholic drink: Sake!!!! Favorite trait: Sexuality, flirtation, passion, joy. Where they would go on a date: Maybe parks or more calm, nature-based places. Izumi is a very sap kinda guy, so anywhere even remotely romantic is good. Ideal gift: It’s a bit hard to gift a sword, but clothes! Jewelry! Anything that would make him look prettier.  How many dates until they go to bed: Depends on how much he likes the person, but maybe around six/seven?

❤ Dating Sim Tropes ❤

[ensurer]

       Such relationships in his world didn’t exactly exist. What were swords allowed at all, when their handles belonged to masters that no longer saw a need for them? Most of them were currently kept behind glasses, some were lost, some returned to the Gods; such relationships didn’t exist. Kasen and Izumi were Kanesadas, relatives in name but they were much far than the Kunihiros or Toushirous, for example. It was pushing way too far to call his elder brother.

       It was just something he had wished upon after the countless times Izumi was among the Kunihiros.

       ❝ I-- I didn’t mean it like that. He’s not exactly my brother, we weren’t smithed by the same person. We just share the clan’s name, but otherwise we are complete strangers to one another. ❞ Which only gives the uchigatana less and less of a reason to inquiry about their relationship. ❝ I was just curious, is all... I’m happy Kasen has found friends--or whatever you two are-- outside of the citadel. I was just surprised. ❞

      Goodness, he really is worked up about it, isn’t he? Aradia’s worried frown returns, mouth turning to one side as she scrunches her eyes up at Izumi’s taller form, one hand settling on the curve of a hip.

          “I thought such relationships on your world were encouraged to be much closer,” she begins, her other hand lifting to twist into the hair falling on one side of her face. “But if that’s what you think– considering Kasen and I went to the ball together and I visit with him somewhat regularly when he’s composing, perhaps you should get to know your brother a bit better, yes?”            Here, she pauses delicately, squinting a little.             “…why do you think it matters whether I am like you or not?”

[ensurer]

       That known heat-- the one covering his cheeks, all the way to his ears and the back of his neck, and the awkwardness that followed suit only to take all known words from his throat; it’s what was happening to the uchigatana by now. What does he mean, she questions, and he knows what he means but it’s hard to actually voice it. Because it’s-- none of his business, it’s Kasen we are talking about, and surely it must be a misunderstanding, right?

       Aradia is only teasing him, right?

       ❝ U-Uhm, I mean... Y-You know... My brother isn’t, well... I-I don’t know him well enough, but I didn’t think he would be the type to see anyone so often... especially one that isn’t like us. ❞ This is definitely not going the way he wanted. ❝ Are you two... I mean.. more than friends... or something? ❞ Izumi was supposed to be the more popular brother, in the end.

      The dumbstruck look on his face prompts a bubbling giggle that she can’t quite stifle, and she pats his arm gingerly. Boy does he ever look uncomfortable about the possibility. Maybe it’s a weird sword thing she doesn’t know about? She’ll have to ask Kasen. 

          “I… suppose that depends on what you mean?” It isn’t that she doesn’t have an idea, of course, but she wants to be sure before she fans any flames she shouldn’t. 

[ensurer]

       Seeing each other. Izumi isn’t as naive as he once was about those kind of stuff ( thanks to his own experiences, that is ), and it’s... a surprise, mostly, to hear that from Aradia of all people. And maybe it’s even more awkward because it has Kasen involved and-- By god. ❝ Uh... Is... ❞ Should he really ask it? On one hand, it would be too awkward to ask his brother about it. On the other hand, the entire situation is too much for Izumi to handle.

       ❝ Is there... something going on with the two of you...? ❞ What in the world would he do if there was a positive answer for this?

      “I’m a little surprised he hasn’t mentioned,” she replies cheerfully, though a slight crease of worry makes its way between her brows. “But well– yes, I do know him. We’ve been…” Oh dear, how should she put it if Kasen hadn’t said anything? “…seeing each other kind of frequently.”

[ensurer]

       ❝ Aradia? Long time no see... Kasen? No, I-- ❞ Wait. Kasen? It has been quite some time since Kanesada ( the younger one, of course ) spoke with the troll, but had it been time enough for-- ❝ W-Wait, you know my br-- You know Kasen?! ❞

                    ensurer​

      “Izumi…! Hi!” Not quite the Kanesada she was looking for, but a good opportunity all the same. “Have you seen Kasen anywhere?” 

[ensurer]

兼定はいいぞ！

[ensurer]

       Nihongou wasn’t exactly the type to sit and listen to those kind of sermons, he knew. And well, Izumi was well known to be one to give them, at least to those closer to him ( the other Shinsengumi swords as well as the Kunihiro brothers ), but Nihongou was-- well, Nihongou was different. They didn’t fit very well together most of the time, unless a glass of sake was in the uchigatana’s hands and they were laughing at wild hours of the night. 

       He brings the taller spear to a calming spot in the gardens of Sector 6 ( almost like they were out in the citadel’s own gardens ), and settles down right there.

       ❝ One that has nothing to do with the likes of the Shinsengumi swords, that’s for sure. I appreciate the sentiment, though. Drinking isn’t as fun when there’s only one of you, right? I’m glad to know I’m in your list of swords you would come after. Well, it’s to be expected, in the end~ ❞

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, kiddo. Find a spot, already.”

Gruff as his words were, he was happy to set eyes on the uchi again. Since he’d found out so many of them had managed to get himself spirited away to this place–and just who it was that had ended up among their numbers–he’d been concerned about how they had managed to keep their wits about them. Izumi had always been someone on his radar for a number of reasons, but he didn’t seem too much the worse for wear.

He’d get to the heart of things soon enough, though.

“But you think I wouldn’t come after you if I had to? I’m hurt, Izumi. You’re cuttin’ me deep, here. What type a’ spear do you think I am, anyway?”

[ensurer]

       ( truth be told, one after one, his drinking partners were coming to this city-- and while it was good to see them well, the idea that drinking nights wouldn’t be half as lonely from now on somewhat placed a comforting smile on the uchigatana’s face. ) ❝ I have no idea what you’re mumbling about, Nihongou. But I’m surprised to see you care enough to “hunt me down”, or whatever it is. ❞

       ❝ We don’t exactly need the drinking part to catch up, you know-- ❞ But it didn’t help the several side-eyeing from the spear’s face to the bottle of sake in his hands. ❝ --but I’ll let it pass only because it has been way too long since we drank together! Just this once, you hear?! ❞

|| @ensurer ||

“So you took your nose away from the whetstone long enough t’come back home, did you? And here I thought I was gonna have to hunt you down.”

“Come sit an’ have a drink with me, little Izumi. We’ve got a lotta catching up to do, you and me.”

[ensurer]

       Byakuya has always been rather mysterious; nothing that bothered Kanesada, of course, he knew how to respect the man’s space and he didn’t seek to force answers and replies out of the man’s mouth. It was nearly comforting, like a mysteriousness that he was once so used to. Maybe because he has spent enough time with the man, or because that very attitude was nostalgic by itself, Kanesada knew well how to handle it.

        He waits, and when Byakuya speaks, several things ( none which even sound likely ) pass through his mind.

       ❝ Ah, well, I’m pretty much free right now. I need to stop by the cafe in a few hours, so we could talk right now, if it’s not a problem for you. ❞ It’s hard to say Byakuya sounds serious when that’s his usual tone, but something about it ( and the fact they needed to talk in private ) just made the uchigatana all the more... curious. Worried, too, but it wasn’t like the other to ask for favors. ❝ Is everything alright, Byakuya? You seem kind of... weird. ❞

          How to start? Seldom did he ask favors of anyone. Popular belief was that a noble of his status was beyond asking something of another. He was seen as too vain, too prideful, or –crudely– with a stick a up his ass. And it rang true to some extent. The way Byakuya constantly and consistently carried himself, as if it the skills were passed through blood, was unmatched. This fact was quite openly acknowledged, even if he hadn’t spoken of it his entire life. The proposal in mind wasn’t outlandish, however, even for him. The oddity instead might be that he personally sought Kanesada out for this. But a Kuchiki of his years wasn’t allowed the bliss of naivety, so even the minuscule and trivial of decisions had reasoning. 

          Hopefully it was more convincing and inviting in person. 

          “Strange as it may be to say,” he glanced off for a split second as a means of establishing a mood for this exchange. Eyebrows knit in complexity, keeping his poker face strong as ever. His eyes, in contrast, were locked on to Kanesada’s. “we’ll need privacy. Might you stop by sometime soon?”

[ensurer]

okossakura:

@ensurer

            “If you find yourself with a moment to spare, I’ve something to ask of you.” There was no easier way to put it. He didn’t think he was going to end up here again after so much time was spent back in the ruined Soul Society, and as of now there was no one else he could call upon. Fortunate was he to stumble upon Kanesada at such a dire time.

       That was a voice he could never forget; for everything they have gone through together, Byakuya’s voice was one of the most easily recognizable for the uchigatana. It’s a surprise to see the man again, and he’s happy ( happier than he ever thought he could be ), but the words spoken to him masked his happiness the slightest bit.

       ❝ Ah-- Byakuya? It has been a long time. I’m not really busy. What’s wrong? ❞ Byakuya was completely capable of taking care of himself, and yet-- Kanesada couldn’t help but worry.

[ensurer]

       It’s true.

       He, better than anyone, know what would have happened.

       Because months ago, Izuminokami had gained the memories of his alternate self; the Izuminokami Kanesada who changed history, who allowed Hijikata Toshizou to live. He knows well what would have happened-- what did happen, in the end.

       Death by seppuku.

       But he persisted-- hoped-- begged for this time, for some reason, for any reason, to be different. Maybe if they did things differently, maybe if Hijikata took another route, maybe-- Maybe. Anything, anything at all. Was it wrong for a sword to wish for their master to live, to see another day, to fight another battle?

       Was it wrong of Kanesada to wish for any of that?

       ❝ Tsk--!!! ❞ It’s at the click of his tongue that the uchigatana finds himself lost. Because Horikawa Kunihiro is right, but his own desires & wishes took control over his mind and soon would over his body. He wanted to run far, quickly, enough to reach his master’s murderer and kill them himself. He wanted to avenge his master, to allow him to live, just a few more hours, just a few more days.

       He wanted to be by his master’s side just a bit longer.

       ❝ Kunihiro. ❞ It’s firm, and his arms shake slightly with the strength that the sword clenched his fists. Enough so that he won’t lose his mind, enough so that he won’t be foolish. This wasn’t your fault. ❝ Can-- Can we at least meet him. One last time. Please. ❞ Because they were never allowed to get too close, they had no reason to. ❝ I... promise I won’t do anything reckless. ❞ He could try.

「 函館」だよ！

Could illusions be considered fake?

Horikawa found himself considering that quite often. For all they knew, the entire city could be an illusion: Every building, every sensation, every person. If everything turned out to be fake, would that invalidate the experience? When he considered the people he’d met within the Hive’s walls – people like Beauty, or Bunji, or Berserker – they felt real to him. It could be an illusion, just as Kanesada said (or a dream; a hoax; a magical projection), but it felt genuine enough to matter. 

Perhaps that was the point of the ‘experiment’ their captors were running.

“You know what would have happened, Kane-san,” he said softly, moving his hand down in order to reach for Izumi’s – carefully, in case the gesture was unwelcome. “You know what happens to swordsmen when they lose… When something dishonorable happens.” There was a hard stone in his throat, and his eyes were stinging at the sound of his partner in so much pain, but he was able to keep his voice level in spite of it. “This wasn’t your fault,” he insisted with resolve. “None of it was. We did what we were made for, Kane-san. That’s all we could’ve done… And it’s not our place to change it now.”

[ensurer]

       He remembers-- Horikawa had been the one to suggest it, back then.

       Their first time.

       He cried.

       And they went there some others, and every time it hurt; to hear that one specific gunshot, the only one, a single one. The gunshot that had killed his master, his beloved, dear master. The gunshot that had ended it all. He wanted it gone, he wanted to end it. And every time, too, after that specific sortie, Izuminokami would cry. In his room alone, by himself, without anyone knowing, he would cry and sob and hate their duties, their purpose, their responsibilities. You can trust us, is what he would tell her master. We know our duty. But it hurt.

       ❝ What do you mean... we can’t? Of course we can. Of course we can! That’s something only we can do, Kunihiro. This-- This is not... This is not... history. Probably just an illusion, but we... Please. ❞

       He didn’t want to beg.

       But he wanted to convince Horikawa.

       ❝ I want to know... I want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t died there. I want to give him a chance to fight. I know this is not real, we aren’t supposed to be here, nor it’s possible for us to be here but-- Kunihiro. I’m tired... ❞ There is a crack in his voice that almost, almost makes him sound like he could cry any moment. But he wouldn’t, Kanesada wouldn’t allow himself to. ❝ I’m tired of being responsible for his death. ❞

「 函館」だよ！

He can’t consider it cruel.

If that were the case, it would be cruel when their Master – their living Master – brought them here. This time they have no clear goal to meet, but even so, it mimics their usual reason for coming to this awful place: ‘Go to Hakodate, and make sure that Hijikata Toshizou dies.’ They carried out that mission a handful of times before their lives were interrupted, and aside from the first trip (when his resolve wavered), it became something of a normalcy. They travel here through magic portals; they fight off the opposing army; they preserve history to the best of their ability; they watch their old allies fall.

Horikawa is used to seeing Hijikata charge into battle, his trusted wakizashi sheathed at his side. He is used to seeing him get shot. He is used to watching him die.

… But this is different. Today, they’ve come here before all of that – before the gunshot, before the battle, before the result was set in stone. Somehow Horikawa knows what Kanesada is going to say before he says it, and he reaches out, seizing his partner’s sleeve within a tight grasp.

“We can’t,” he utters quietly, his gaze averting – away from Kanesada, from Hijikata. Away from everything. “You know that, Kane-san. I know it, too.”

[ensurer]

「 函館」だよ！

       They are not supposed to be there.

       And he doesn’t understand why, or how, but as far as he could remember, this is exactly what it is: Hakodate.

       There is a desperate look to his left as there is to his right; the only one next to him is another who, too, had lived through this time. They were the only ones there; no other swords, no Issei, no one else. It was only them, and for a minute, there was a voice he recognized well.

       Hijikata Toshizou’s.

       From the looks of it, he hasn’t left to battle yet. Yet. This is exactly as Izuminokami remembers it, exactly a few hours prior to his-- death. To the death he so many times wished he could have prevented it. And this-- this is it. This is their time. History shouldn’t be changed, he wants to remind himself. But they are both by themselves, both swords of Hijikata Toshizou and they-- and Izumi--

       How could he simply watch his master die again?

       ❝ Kunihiro, we-- we need to save him. We need to save Hijikata-sama. ❞

@wifeyzashi

[ensurer]

       All he does is listen.

       Carefully, closely, making sure there isn’t a single word missed. He listens and takes it all in, and he feels what he knew he would; anger. Frustration. Disappointment -- in both himself and his master. He listens and it’s weird, how much Izuminokami feels that all of this happened right before his eyes but completely behind the scenes too. Like he should have known, I should have known, I could have prevented it.

       But he could not.

       There was nothing he could have done himself, no way he would have known, but he thinks-- he could have saved his master. He could have spared all of them from those weeks of terror and their bodies disappearing, of Horikawa being unbelievably worried, of the tension in their house, of the sudden feeling of disassociation. He could have done all of it, if only...

       If only...?

       ❝ You... ❞

       ❝ What the hell is wrong with you?! ❞

       That’s not what he wanted to say; not exactly, no, not the way he wanted to start it. But with his fists clenched and how the coldness didn’t seem to affect him ( barely getting through his several layers, impossible to dismiss the hotness of his anger ), there is barely any resistance to the words that leave his mouth. Izuminokami is rightfully pissed, angry and-- sad. Hurt. Broken, in a way that he thought he;

       would never go through--

       would never think to be possible--

       would never assume his own master would make him feel.

       And that’s what angers him the most.

       ❝ You have so many-- so many of us here. And you know, you SHOULD KNOW that we are all your swords. We are all loyal to you, and we would all die for you if necessary. Did you choose Kashuu and Yamanbagiri because-- I don’t know, because they have been the longest with you? What about Kasen? What about Hachisuka?! Did you even ask them? --No, of course not. I’m sure they would have done whatever they could to help you. Why the hell did you only choose Kashuu and Yamanbagiri then? Why the hell did you waste their lives for something you wouldn’t go through?! ❞

       That makes sense, of course it does. Their disappearance too-- it had been Issei. It had all been Issei. Gods--

       ❝ Why-- ❞ He moves a step closer. ❝ Why didn’t you talk to us? ❞ And another. ❝ Why do you always do everything by yourself? ❞ And another. ❝ Why are you so selfish, Aruji? ❞ And another; until he’s so painfully close to Issei that-- surely he could see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

       And they do, much to Kanesada’s own shame and embarrassment, which only makes his angrier. At himself. At how much he wished he could have helped, yet he was powerless. No matter how much he could have tried, he wouldn’t have been able-- ( to save Hijikata ) to save his master.

       ❝ ... Why didn’t you ask me? I would have done it. I would do anything for you. You’re my master, aren’t you? I don’t care what it is, you could even ask me to commit seppuku, but if it’s for you-- If it’s for you, I would have done it. ❞ Selfless, is what he is. And even despite his own loyalty to a dead master, Issei is irreplaceable. Because it was him who gave Izuminokami the chance to reunite; with Horikawa, with Yamato, with Kashuu and Nagasone. The chance to smile with all of them, to laugh with all of them. The chance to be with his family.

       He sobs; there is a struggle to say anything else with how his tears few. He had been worried, despite all the anger. Worried and sad and what would he have done-- what would he have done without at least being able to bid Issei farewell, without at least being able to thank him? ❝ We are your swords, for God’s sake! Even if we were given this body, isn’t it our duty to protect our master? At least allow us to do that... ❞

容赦

Of course he does.

(– not. What right does a tool have to question its master? It’s a dark thought that comes to the Saniwa as he thinks, sees the road they will walk down if he speaks. It flickers in his chest, just for a moment. But it doesn’t stay there.)

He does.

‘Outside,’ he repeats, and he pulls away from Izumi to drift down the hall, the uchi’s fellowship assumed. He does not look back.

When they do get outside, it’s cold. The Saniwa hops off of the veranda and lands on the first of the stepping stones leading away from the house, gathering his arms unto himself. It’s cold.

He should’ve brought a jacket.

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