realization
Title: realization
Author : jennisnotokay / jennisnotwriting
Pairing : kurikiyo (ookurikara / kashuu kiyomits )
Rating : G ( could not be any fluffier)
Warnings: some crying and depression talk
Word Count: 3,987 words (part of a series ; 1/? )
Summary : Kashuu Kiyomitsu was a lot of things.
If anyone were to ask him, he’d say “beautiful”, “skilled” and above all else, “the saniwa’s favorite.”
If anyone were to ask Ookurikara, he’d say that Kiyomitsu was “annoying”, “spoiled” and “attention seeking”.
Of course, no one would actually ask Ookurikara about his opinions of the child beneath the river. For all intents and purposes, the two have never shared a single word. They haven’t even gone on a sortie together.
Note: Was rying to post this on AO3, but it wouldn’t work, so let’s see if this works out? Will eventually post this on AO3 when AO3 support gets back to me. Most likely going to be a series. Look forward to it!
Kashuu Kiyomitsu was a lot of things.
If anyone were to ask him, he’d say “beautiful”, “skilled” and above all else, “the saniwa’s favorite.”
If anyone were to ask Ookurikara, he’d say that Kiyomitsu was “annoying”, “spoiled” and “attention seeking”.
Of course, no one would actually ask Ookurikara about his opinions of the child beneath the river. For all intents and purposes, the two have never shared a single word. They haven’t even gone on a sortie together.
So why would anyone even think to ask Ookurikara his opinion of Kashuu Kiyomitsu?
Maybe it was the way he watched the other. Ookurikara keeps to himself. If it weren’t for Shokudaikiri Mitsutada and Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s incessant need to pester him, Ookurikara would go every day in silence.
For the most part, he does. If he’s not sent on a mission or assigned to chores, the sword would be sitting on the deck with one of Gokotai’s tigers, lounging peacefully in his lap. it was usually quiet during the earlier mornings. most were out doing chores or by the sakura tree (or whatever kind of tree it was). Mikazuki Munechika and Kogitsunemaru were both sitting several feet away, sipping their tea and occasionally making light conversation as the younger swords ran around.
However, no one bothered Ookurikara.
Maybe because Mitsusada and Tsurumaru were on a sortie. Though, they were due to be back soon.
The sortie included Yamatonokami Yasusada, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro and Kiyomitsu for whatever reason. Mitsusada was supposed to be the captain. After it was decided Ookurikara wasn’t to join in, he stopped listening and walked away (Heshikiri Hasebe was not pleased when he just walked away, but who cares).
A shining light caused the sword to turn his attention to the middle of the Citadel courtyard as five swords manifested.
They looked worse for wear, which was only natural. However, Ookurikara’s eyes focused on the blur of black and red, rather than the two who considered themselves his friends (they weren’t no matter how much they protested).
“I can’t believe my makeup and my outfit is completely ruined because you decided to fall into a river,” Kiyomitsu complained as soon as his feet touched the ground (he nearly tripped due to missing a heel).
Yasusada looked just as beaten as Kiyomitsu, “It wasn’t like I fell in the river on purpose! Tsurumaru scared me!”
“I surprised you. You’ll live longer,” the white crane protested, a cheeky smile on his lips.
“Well, thanks to your ‘surprise’, Kiyomitsu and Yasusada nearly got swept down a waterfall. If it wasn’t for Yamabagiri’s quick thinking, they could have been gone,” Mitsusada scolded. Tsurumaru pouted but apologized soon after.
Ookurikara watched the scene in front of him, suddenly annoyed by how loud it got with the return of the swords. However, his eyes did focus on Kiyomitsu a second longer than he should have (a certain fox and grandpa sword smiled behind their cups at the tattooed sword who was completely unaware of their knowing eyes).
“I have to bathe and redo my mak- I broke a nail!” Kiyomitsu exclaimed, examining his nails, “I must look completely ugly!”
“You’re always beautiful,” Oookurikara muttered.
Or so he thought.
He wasn’t aware that seven sets of eyes were now on him until he realized how silent it got. His golden eyes shifted up, catching sight of a pair of surprised, red eyes.
“… Ookurikara?”
His name leaving Kiyomitsu’s mouth was completely foreign. It attacked his senses, causing his own eyes to widen as he stood up straight. The poor tiger in his lap made a startled noise before running off, probably to find Gokotai for comfort. Ookurikara couldn’t take a moment to care when he realized those words were never supposed to leave his lips.
Kiyomitsu took a tentative step forward, but that only caused Ookurikara to turn and run from their attention.
—
“Did… Ookurikara just call you beautiful?” Yasusada questioned after a moment.
They had all watched in silence as Ookurikara ran off. Kiyomitsu was left stunned. For one, Ookurikara had never spoken a word to him before. Kiyomitsu couldn’t say he’d even give the other a hello. Ookurikara was like a shadow. You knew he was there, but other than the sun, no one really noticed it.
That wasn’t to say Kiyomitsu never noticed him. He had. Yasusada and he spoke about wanting to train with Ookurikara. He was strong and dedicated to fighting, but neither of them expected him to agree. He seemed to only stick around Mitsusada and Tsurumaru (or maybe they just stuck to him).
Even the two Okita Souji swords seemed to stick with the Shinsengumi swords more than anyone else. It was just how things seemed to be in the Citadel. There were cliques and while sometimes something happened to cause those cliques to shift, the swords tended to stick with their families or teams. It was just how things were.
“How surprising,” Tsurumaru grinned, a sly look in his eyes. He turned his attention to the two swords still seated and drinking their tea. “What do you think, Mikazuki? Kogisunemaru?”
“Hmm,” the great sword hummed. His eyes were closed, but there was the same smile on his face that causes Kiyomitsu to throw a hissy fit every time (Yasusada was well aware that Mikazuki was probably Kiyomitsu’s least favorite swords because as Kiyomitsu put it, he was an arrogant know it all). “I can’t say. Kogisunemaru?”
The fox sword chuckled softly, “I’m curious to see what this means as well.”
“Well, I’ll say it then,” Mitsusada chimed in, slapping his hand on Yamabagiri’s back, earning a surprised ‘Oi’. “I’d say that maybe Ookurikara is curious about one other sword in the Citadel after all.”
Kiyomitsu turned his attention to the sword with a furrowed brow, “He’s never said a single word to me!”
“And yet, he’s quick to defend you,” Tsurumaru rested a finger to his chin, as if he was in deep thought, “He’s never complimented me before. You, Mitsu?”
Mitsusada shook his head and chuckled, “I’m relieved though. I guess if Ookurikara had to have someone’s attention, it ought to be you.”
“Why?”
“Like calls to like, I suppose,” Mikazuki states, causing Kogisunemaru to nod his head in unison.
Kiyomitsu eyed the two swords with an annoyed expression before turning his attention back to his nails.
Ookurikara called him beautiful. Even with his makeup obviously smeared all over his face, making him look like some pathetic clown. His nail polish was chipped, including one nail being shorter than the rest. His outfit was a complete mess. Two buttons were missing from his vest, his scarf was dirty and his jacket had a dozen tears. He was missing an earring and one of his heels was broken! He was terrified to look at his own reflection.
Yasusada and Yamanbagiri walked up to Kiyomitsu, taking a spot on either side of him. Kiyomitsu glanced between the two, “What?”
His partner smiled, “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
Yamanbagiri shrugged, obviously not having an actual input on the whole situation. He was mostly there so he could give his report to the saniwa. He’d just rather not have to listen to Mitsusada and Tsurumaru. Kiyomitsu and Yasusada were a safer choice to stick too (and that may have to do with his own brother being a Shinsengumi weapon, so he may just naturally like them because of Horikawa).
The blue eyed sword chuckled, “You are, obviously. Even though Ookurikara complimented you, you’re still fretting your appearance.”
“S-so what if he complimented me?” Kiyomitsu raised his voice a little. Eyes turned to him and he crossed his arms, raising his nose to the air, “As he should. I don’t need all of this to be cute. I just do it to be even cuter.”
“He said beautiful,” Yamanbagiri pointed out, causing Kiyomitsu’s eyes to widen again.
He didn’t know how to process this information. Ookurikara avoided everyone, so why did he say that? Kiyomitsu was so fixated of his appearance and gaining attention that the fact someone like Ookurikara gave it to him caused his brain to suddenly fry.
His eyes turned to the spot where Ookurikara vanished and a small smile appeared on his lips.
Now he was curious about Ookurikara.
—
He was an idiot. He was certain he was the biggest idiot in the world. Of all the times for him to speak up, it had to be then? It had to be in front of the one person Ookurikara tried impressively for months to ignore.
Those thoughts were supposed to remain in his head, hidden away from sight. As far as anyone was supposed to know, Ookurikara was oblivious to everything around him. He didn’t want to make friends. He didn’t want to get close to anyone. He was even rude to their saniwa!
Kashuu Kiyomitsu ruined everything.
With the annoying way he brushed the thin ponytail when he was nervous, or when he’d have that soft, infuriating tiny smile on his lips when someone complimented him or that ridiculous laugh that sounded like bells.
Ookurikara stopped in his tracks, his eyes staring into space as the thoughts of Kashuu Kiyomitsu flooded into his mind. A small pink flush appeared on his tanned skin and he lifted his hand to cover his mouth.
He mostly thought of his lingering eyes on the other as just an annoyance. He managed to convince himself that the reason he even paid attention to the other was that he was strong and people seemed drawn to him naturally. He allowed his denial to convince him it was okay to be envious. He wouldn’t have to admit and no one would ask, so what was the harm, right?
He was so very wrong. The subconscious part of him knew why his eyes lingered a little longer when Kiyomitsu disappeared. His eyes memorized the mole on the other’s chin and the delicate way he curled his fingers and eyed his nails for any imperfections. He noticed the way the other would pout when eyes turned away from him and looked toward someone else. Even the way his eyes looked filled with sorrow any time Yasusada mentioned Okita Souji.
Ookurikara noticed all of it and in his own denial, he allowed himself to become attached.
He was almost certain.
He was in love with Kashuu Kiyomitsu.
—
His ears were ringing. He was certain he was going to go crazy from replaying Ookurikara’s words in his head.
It isn’t like it is the first time he’s been called beautiful when he had ruined makeup or his nails were a mess or his outfit astray. Yasusada or Horikawa was quick to assure him. Even Kanesada or Nagasone would tell him he looked fine. One time, their saniwa was there when they returned from Ikeda Inn and told Kiyomitsu that he was not only beautiful on the outside, but on the inside and how he had nothing to worry about. Kiyomitsu was certain at that moment, that was the best thing he could have heard. It was all he wanted.
And yet, his mind still lingered on the tanned sword.
Kiyomitsu was nothing if not appreciative of the finer things. He’d noticed Ookurikara, obviously. The other was definitely good looking. From the tanned skin to the muscles that a white t-shirt could not hide. To the golden eyes that seemed to pierce him in that moment.
Sure, he was antisocial and a little rude, but since when did Kiyomitsu need others to speak? He was fine with doing all the speaking and Yasusada was rude nearly all the time in his own way.
And yet, Ookurikara…
Kiyomitsu chewed on his bottom lip as he stared down at the water of the bath. Yasusada was chatting away next to him with Kanesada and Horikawa. Kiyomitsu wasn’t even sure what they were talking about until he saw a hand waving in front of his face.
“What? I’m listening.”
“Oh, really?” Yasusada hummed. Kanesada and Horikawa chuckled from behind him. “Then what did Kanesada say?”
The red eyed sword deadpanned for a moment and cleared his throat, “Probably some crappy haiku.”
“Oi!”
“Kane-san,” Horikawa cooed, grabbing the other sword’s arm before he could retaliate, “Kiyomitsu, are you possibly thinking about Ookurikara?”
The tinge of pink on his cheeks seems to only redden. He quickly lowered himself further into the warm water, “O-of course not!”
“Heh, you are! It’s fine, you know. He could do worse,” Yasusada laughed.
Kiyomitsu shot up in the water and glared, “What does that mean?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Yasusada held up his hands in defense, “But seriously. We have humans bodies now. We have emotions, stronger than before. It’s only natural, this feeling. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think Ookurikara would go for someone like you.”
“Again, what does that mean?!” Kiyomitsu questioned, punching his partner in the shoulder.
“I think what Yasusada means is that you are very different from Ookurikara on the outside,” Horikawa interjected, earning a nod from Yasusada and Kanesada.
“On the outside?” Kiyomitsu’s brows furrowed.
“Yeah, because on the inside, you two are the same,” Kanesada added in, throwing an arm around Horikawa’s shoulders.
Kiyomitsu wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the three thought about Kiyomitsu’s insides. He just turned away, his eyes focusing on his nails. It was his way of showing he was done with the conversation and the other three seemed to understand so they started talking about something else.
Still, Kiyomitsu’s thoughts were surrounded by the sword with the dragon tattoo.
—
The rest of the day went by without incident (mostly, Tsurumaru did try to get into his room, but Ookurikara quickly dealt with the idiot crane).
Ookurikara remained locked up in his room, refusing to see or talk to anyone. Mitsusada did leave him some dinner outside of his door, knowing better than to come in. When he came back, the bowls were picked clean, but he still didn’t force anything from Ookurikara.
The sword just wanted to stay in his room and be left alone. He had a book he was given from the saniwa (it was a story about a competition where young high school children were told they were going on a school trip but are actually sent to kill each other off one by one - Battle Royale, it is called. He was thoroughly concerned with the actual concept but he just couldn’t stop reading it).
As he was reading the death of another student, there was a knock at his door.
It was nearly nine at night and the candles that flickered in his room gave a soft glow that outlined a thin figure outside of his shōji. He was almost certain he knew who it was.
“Go away,” he told them, his cheeks instantly blushing.
He couldn’t be here. Of all the people he didn’t want to see, Kashuu Kiyomitsu was number one on that list (he was tied with Tsurumaru, but just barely).
“… Please, can I come in?” Kiyomitsu questioned, his hand pressed against the shōji.
No, he wanted to say, but Ookurikara couldn’t actually say it. He just stared for the longest moment, “Whatever.”
He quickly turned his back to the other so Kiyomitsu wouldn’t see the fear on his face. He heard the door slide open and then close before he heard what sounded like Kiyomitsu taking a seat on the floor.
There was silence for the longest time. Ookurikara was certain that Kiyomitsu could hear how fast his heart was beating. His fingers were so tight around the book, he was certain he’d snap it in half. It was thick, so it seemed to handle, though a few pages may be slightly torn.
“… Um,” Kiyomitsu started, his voice soft and delicate. He sounded… vulnerable. Even with his back to him, Ookurikara was almost certain he knew how Kiyomitsu’s face looked.
It was most likely the same look he had when he found out he was going back to Ikeda Inn for the first time. Ookurikara knew the story. Everyone in the Citadel did. Everyone knew that was when Kashuu Kiyomitsu was broken and left behind by Okita Souji, his former master.
Ookurikara remembered how quick the face appeared and how quickly it disappeared, replaced with a bored expression and mild annoyance at Yasusada for how excited and terrified he was in seeing their former owner. Ookurikara caught that look though. His heart seemed to clench at the thought of being the person to give Kiyomitsu that same sad look. In his mind, he was already comparing himself to Okita Souji, but the former Shinsengumi was an idiot for having left Kiyomitsu behind.
“Thank you for what you said,” Kiyomitsu finally continued. Ookurikara kept his attention on the wall, a large shadow of Kiyomitsu above his head, seeing as how the candles were behind the other, casting the image. It was just a gray blob of a silhouette and yet, Ookurikara still stared at it as if it were a work of art.
Kiyomitsu cleared his throat, “I, uh, … I never realized you paid much attention to me and if I’m being honest, I didn’t give much thought to you, other than you are a skilled fighter. But knowing that… you may even look my way, even for a moment… thank you…. Ah, what am I even saying? You must think I’m really pathetic, huh? You give me some compliment and suddenly I’m here talking like a fool.”
“I don’t…,” he stopped himself, though he noticed the way the shadow of Kiyomitsu seemed to sit up straighter. The tanned sword sighed, lifting his fingers to his brown and red locks, scratching his head. He didn’t know what to really say.
He took a deep breath, dropping his hands to his lap, the book soon forgotten. “I don’t think you’re a fool,” he decided, shrugging his shoulders a bit, “And I… meant what I said before. There… hasn’t been a moment I didn’t think you were… beautiful.”
There was a silence that followed before he heard a sniffle. Fear shot through him and he quickly turned, moving to sit on his knees as he finally looked at Kiyomitsu. His heart stopped at the sight.
The other was already dressed as if ready for bed, his white clothes weirdly foreign to Ookurikara who was used to seeing the other drenched in black and red. his newly painted red nails were bright in comparison to the white he wore. Kiyomitsu’s skin seemed almost paler in comparison and his hair was loose, the ribbon that usually tied his ponytail together forgotten. And his eyes… those ruby red eyes seemed to glisten with the tears that fell down his cheek.
Kiyomitsu was staring at Ookurikara, a hand covering his lips, but his eyes wide. Ookurikara was speechless. He was certain he was staring at a piece of art. He almost cried at the sight of it.
“W-why are you crying?” His voice was softer than usual, concerned.
A soft laugh left Kiyomitsu’s lips. It was only slightly muffled by the other’s hand. He just shook his head, “I-I don’t know… I just… I can’t stop.”
Ookurikara reached out, but stopped himself, his hand frozen. Kiyomitsu’s eyes focused on the hand for a moment before he looked up at Ookurikara. His eyes seemed to read like an invitation to reach out and Ookurikara moved again, his hand reaching out to rest against Kiyomitsu’s cheek.
—
Ookurikara’s hand was soft, even if it was covered in callouses, but whose hands weren’t. If they weren’t out on a mission, fighting the Retrograde Army, they were doing chores. Most opted to train when they weren’t doing either.
But his hands were soft in the sense they were gentle. This one action, one Kiyomitsu didn’t think Ookurikara was capable of was what caused him to start sobbing.
He wasn’t sure what took over him. Maybe it was centuries of being broken and then forced to relive what happened. Maybe it was all the time he’s spent fixated on having the saniwa love him the way Okita never did. Maybe it was holding in every emotion he ever had and released it the second Ookurikara reached out to him.
The hand soon fell from his cheek and he whimpered at the loss, but then strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him in. His hands pressed against Ookurikara’s chest and his eyes were wide as he stared at the silhouette of the two of them, made by the candlelight.
“You are beautiful. You are no longer broken. You are… you are loved, Kiyomitsu,” Ookurikara whispered against his ear.
His cheeks heated up from the closeness and the breath against his ear and neck. The words caused a ripple effect in his entire body as the sobbing grew harder and he buried his face between Ookurikara’s shoulder and neck. His fingers tangled into the white of Ookurikara’s t-shirt as he cried. Ookurikara’s arms were tight around his waist, but they felt right.
It felt like hours that he cried in Ookurikara’s arms, but it was no more than thirty minutes. Ookurikara ended up moving them so that he was sitting down and Kiyomitsu was in his lap, still clinging to him. Kneeling on his knees must have been tiring.
The sobbing turned into soft sniffles before he eventually pulled away and wiped his face on his sleeve. He looked up at Ookurikara, his expression shy and guilty.
“I… I got makeup on your shirt,” he commented softly, “I’ll wash it.”
“It’s fine,” Ookurikara shrugged as he looked at the other. He reached up, brushing his thumb across Kiyomitsu’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His expression was blank, but Kiyomitsu was certain, that even in the low light, his face was concerned.
Kiyomitsu reached up, wrapping his fingers around the hand that was touching his face. Ookurikara seemed to freeze as he watched the other.
Keeping his red eyes focused on Ookurikara’s golden ones, he brought Ookurikara’s fingers to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. A small, sweet smile appeared on his lips, “You’re very handsome, Kara-chan.”
If his face was expressionless before, it was full of a bunch of expressions now; a mixture of anger and shyness and possibly a bit of embarrassment as he pulled his hand away from Kiyomitsu to cover his face, “Don’t call me that! You’re worse than Tsuru and Mitsu.”
Kiyomitsu giggled and Ookurikara dropped his hand slowly to look at the other.
—
Hearing that small laugh and the way Kiyomitsu’s face seemed to light up caused Ookurikara’s anger to dissipate, like throwing water onto a fire. All he can do is stare as Kiyomitsu fought against his giggles. A small smile appeared on his own lips.
He may have opened up Kiyomitsu’s emotions, causing him to cry. It made him feel guilty, however, making him laugh like this… he felt a sense of pride.
Ookurikara reached out once more, brushing Kiyomitsu’s hair from his face and resting against his neck, his thumb brushing against his cheek. This time, Kiyomitsu didn’t look surprised by the action but pressed his cheek against the tanned hand. His eyes closed and the same sweet smile rested on his face.
The sword was sure he hadn’t seen someone so beautiful. Even with Kiyomitsu’s makeup being askew again and his eyes puffy from crying. He was still so beautiful.
Soon red eyes were looking at him and Ookurikara was certain his heart skipped a beat.
“I wonder what this means,” Kiyomitsu muttered, his voice tentative as he looked up at Ookurikara through his eyelashes.
The tanned sword cleared his throat, his golden eyes looking at anything other than Kiyomitsu. He didn’t know what this was, but he was certain of one thing.
If anyone were to ask him what Kiyomitsu was, he’d simply say “everything”.
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