Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m Yamanbagiri Kunihiro.” A pause, a hood being pulled so that the eyes are just barely visible. “…What’s with that look? Does the fact that I’m a duplicate bother you?”

Chapter Text

The citadel has been quiet lately. Too quiet. Expedition teams for the most part have been self-formed by whichever swords wanted to go for an outing, and there haven’t been any sorties in the past few weeks. While the peace resulting from this is pleasant (if Tsurumaru coming up with a new prank every three days can be considered peaceful), Yamanbagiri can’t help but be concerned, and decides to peek into Hana’s office, just to make sure that she’s okay. He may not be the secretary anymore, but he was the first sword to manifest in this citadel, and taking care of the saniwa has become second nature to him.

“Ah, Yamanbagiri!” Hana immediately shuts her laptop and wipes her eyes. “Is something the matter?”

“I should be asking you that.” Yamanbagiri is pretty sure, no, he knows that Hana was crying just now. He eyes the laptop suspiciously. “What movie?”

“Kal Ho Naa Ho.”

“Of course.” Yamanbagiri has previously found Ookurikara, of all swords, in tears after watching it. No one in the citadel is over Aman, no one.

Chapter Text

“Kara-chan!” Mitsutada waves at the brooding uchigatana passing by the kitchen. “Would you like—“

“I have no intention of getting friendly.” Ookurikara doesn’t even stop to look at him and continues in the direction of the bedrooms.

Something happened, that’s for sure. Mitsutada takes a few pieces of zunda mochi and places them in a small plate before following Ookurikara to their room.

“What’s wrong?”

Ookurikara doesn’t answer, his hand lingers over a mochi.

“Take as much as you want.” Mitsutada tilts his head and smiles.

Ookurikara slowly picks up the mochi and takes a bite out of it. His expression shifts to one of contentment. He finishes the mochi and takes another one. And another one. Soon the plate is empty and Ookurikara looks at Mitsutada sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright, they were all for you anyways.”

“Mitsutada…” Ookurikara suddenly averts his gaze. “Am I…” He then shakes his head. “I thought I didn’t care… About what other people thought of me. But… if I’m really that bad then…”

“Kara-chan, what gave you that idea?” Mitsutada doesn’t understand where any of this is even coming from. “Did someone say that about you?”

“No. It’s just… I don’t know how to get along with people. If it’s not you or Sada then I don’t even want to try. But even you two wouldn’t want to be around a person like that.”

“That’s not true—“

“It is!”

Mitsutada flinches, Ookurikara was never the type to have an outburst like that. Though it must mean he had been holding it in for a while now. “Kara-chan…” Mitsutada pulls Ookurikara into his arms.

“I’m sorry…” Ookurikara clutches the fabric of Mitsutada’s shirt. “Just… forget all of that.”

“No, I can’t.” Even if Mitsutada doesn’t find out what caused this in the first place, he isn’t going to let Ookurikara see himself as any less than the wonderful person Mitsutada fell in love with.

“How’s this?” Mitsutada holds a saucepan up to Ookurikara’s lips.

Ookurikara takes a sip of the gravy, “It’s good. Could use a little more salt. Just a little.”

“Just what I thought.” Mitsutada adds a small amount of salt to the stew. “I made zunda for dessert again.”

A small smile forms on Ookurikara’s face and Mitsutada places a kiss on Ookurikara’s cheek.

Chapter Text

“Do I want to ask why we’re having a picnic in the middle of Sendai?” Hasebe reluctantly sits down on the blanket that Tsurumaru had bought from some street vendor half an hour earlier.

“Because why not?” Sadamune fills his mouth with zunda mochi. “Thish ish sho—“

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“So,” Tsurumaru is leaning against a tree, holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. “They really decided to ditch us, huh.”

Fudou rolls his eyes. “You set this up for that exact purpose.”

“And it actually worked, what a surprise.” Tsurumaru plops onto the picnic blanket. “Mitsu-bou isn’t the type to ditch family bonding time and Kara-bou isn’t the type to ditch food—“

“Implying that we are some sort of family?” Hasebe asks in disbelief.

“Well, aren’t we?”

“It isn’t like you to just leave everyone like that.”

Mitsutada laughs sheepishly, “I guess not.” His gaze is fixed on the town below them. From the hill they are standing on everything looks so far away, like a distant memory. “This place, this era, it brings back so many memories…”

“Is that so…” By the time Ookurikara had arrived in Sendai, the wars were already over. All he remembers is one man’s legacy. “We weren’t even together with Masamune-kou for that long.” Just a few decades, maybe even less, and Mitsutada had been whisked away by the Tokugawa.

“Yet we’re here now.” Mitsutada’s hand brushes against Ookurikara’s, and their fingers intertwine.

Chapter Text

“It’s nothing worth resting over.”

“You got stabbed! If Micchan finds out he’s gonna freak out!” Sadamune seems to be doing enough freaking out himself. “Jeez, Kara, it’s like you have no sense of self-preservation at all.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run ahead of everyone else.” Ookurikara had gotten the task of babysitting the group of tantou (and one wakizashi) on a sortie, which wouldn’t have been the worst thing to ever happen to him if all of the other swords assigned to this unit weren’t pure chaotic energy. Between Aizen attempting to start a festival, Houchou approaching anyone who looked like a married woman, Imanotsurugi challenging the local children to a marathon, Namazuo collecting horse poop, and Sadamune trying to run ahead and scout the enemy when everyone clearly wasn’t ready yet, Ookurikara has had enough of dealing with people for the next month. Once he’s done with repairs he is going to hibernate.

“Sorry…” Sadamune finishes wrapping the bandage around Ookurikara’s torso. “You know there’s no way you can hide this from Micchan, right?”

“I just have to make sure he doesn’t see me with my shirt off, that’s all.”

“Is it really that simple?”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“Well… you know…” Sadamune trails off, averting his gaze. “Never mind.”

It takes three days for Ookurikara to realize what Sadamune had meant.

“Kara-chan…” Mitsutada’s hand is under Ookurikara’s shirt, right over the bandaged wound. “When…?”

Ookurikara is too hot and bothered to care about answering that question. “Later.”

“No.” Mitsutada sits up. “Were you really not going to tell me you had gotten hurt?”

“Normally you’re so goddamn horny, what’s with you now?”

“Kara-chan.” Mitsutada crosses his arms over his chest, frowning.

Ookurikara sighs. There really is no hiding anything from him. “It was the sortie in Edo. I messed up.”

“Yeah, Sada-chan told me.”

“Wait, you knew?” Ookurikara stares at Mitsutada in shock. “Then why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I wanted you to tell me on your own.”

“Oh…” Ookurikara slowly sits up, resting his head against Mitsutada’s shoulder. “…I’m sorry…”

Mitsutada wraps his arms around Ookurikara, stroking his back. “It’s okay. Just… please don’t hide this sort of thing from me again.”

Ookurikara nods.

Chapter Text

“Are you surprised someone like me came here so suddenly?” 

Ookurikara could recognize that voice from a mile away, despite not having heard it since the year 1901. 

He is about to leave Hana in the smithing room with the crane tachi when he suddenly gets jumped on from behind. 

“Good to see you too, Kara-bou!” Some things just never change, and unfortunately that includes Tsurumaru’s uncanny ability to get on his nerves. 

“Oh, you two are friends?” Hana asks cheerfully, “That’s great! I was getting kind of worried about Kara-chan getting lonely if Mitsutada wasn’t around…” 

“Why would Mitsutada not be around?” Ookurikara then realizes he should have answered the saniwa’s first question first because Tsurumaru is definitely going to use him not denying it as ammunition against him. “Also I have no intention of--”

“Getting along with me.” Tsurumaru finishes. “Yeah, sure. If that was the case you would have pushed me off of you by now.” 

Ookurikara shoves Tsurumaru off and turns to Hana, gaze narrowing. “What did you mean by him not being around?”

“You know how lately some of the swords have been going on journeys.” Hana says, “Well, if he leaves who’s going to make sure you don’t start skipping meals again--”

“Okay just stop.” Ookurikara can see the inquisitive look on Tsurumaru’s face and doesn’t want the saniwa adding fuel to the fire. “I can take care of myself.”

One time. That was one time. It had been around when they first manifested, in order to avoid having to talk to anyone else Ookurikara would eat in his room, Mitsutada bringing him food (and Ookurikara didn’t mind his company occasionally). The eyepatched tachi had been sent on an expedition and during those three days the only time Ookurikara ate was when he snuck into the kitchen in the middle of the night. The third night Hasebe caught him and dragged him to the saniwa the next morning. 

“I guess you’ve been getting along with everyone else a little better now, at least enough to stop being even more of a shut-in than I used to be.” Hana needs to stop talking because Tsurumaru’s shit-eating grin is only growing. 

Tsurumaru slings an arm around Ookurikara, who promptly shoves it off. “Now that I’m here you have nothing to worry about, Aruji.” 

“I wonder…” Hana seems to be getting the sense that any camaraderie between the two swords is rather one-sided. “Well, maybe Kara-chan can show you around.” 

No she just wants to torture him.

Chapter Text

This time Sadamune is convinced he won’t lose. Maybe he won’t win either, but he definitely won’t lose. 

And he was wrong. 

It’s always like this with the Date swords, though at least Mitsutada and Ookurikara challenge him fair and square. Tsurumaru on the other hand seems to think anything goes. Last time it was snakes. This time…

Sadamune falls face first onto the ground. “Marbles?!” 

Tsurumaru points his wooden sword at him. “Surprise.” 

“Where does it end with you?” Sadamune gets up and almost trips over the marbles again. “Maybe we should use these in battle.” 

“I considered it but I figured it wouldn’t do us any good if our comrades start tripping too, now would it.” 

“Yeah…”

Chapter Text

“I decide where I die! And that isn’t here!”

It’s bothered him since… well since the first time his partner was driven into a corner like that. Which was quite a long time ago. But even now…

“You’re not… planning on dying are you?”

Ookurikara looks at Mitsutada in confusion, the blanket slowly falling off as he sits up, revealing bandages covering his chest and torso. “…No?”

“Then why… why do you say things like that?” It isn’t just during battle, it’s with the saniwa too. Deciding on where to die, since when was that something to decide? “You’re not going to die in battle-- I’m not going to let that happen!” Maybe he’s letting his emotions get the better of him now but every time he hears Ookurikara talk of death as if it’s something he’s setting his mind on, it makes Mitsutada’s heart ache. 

“I’m sorry…” Ookurikara’s voice wavers a bit as his gaze falls onto the dragon resting in his left arm, though it seems to be more of an attempt at not having to look Mitsutada in the eye. “It’s just…” He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t get it. And don’t ask me to explain because if I do you’ll just get mad at me.” 

Even more of a reason for Mitsutada to pry further. “Kara-chan, what is that even supposed to mean?!” He realizes he comes off a little louder than he should have, and if anything he may only be proving the uchigatana’s point. He takes Ookurikara’s hand into his, his voice softening. “Please, I want to know what’s on your mind.” 

Ookurikara sighs. “...You know I’d do anything for you. And Kasha and Sada... And that idiot crane. So… if it came down to it… I would trade my life for yours. It’s… it’s not like I’d be missed too much anyways-- don’t look at me like that.” 

Mitsutada feels tears welling up and his grip on Ookurikara’s hand tightens. It’s not like he doesn’t understand at all-- he too would give up his life for his beloved in a heartbeat-- it’s just-- “What do you mean you wouldn’t be missed?!”

“...Someone like me… most of the citadel wouldn’t even notice if I was gone anyways--”

“I would--”

“You’d get over me eventually.” 

Mitsutada is at a loss for words. What could make Ookurikara even think that he would get over him? After them being in love for six hundred years? 

Another sigh escapes the uchigatana. “I told you you’d get mad. Just… forget this. I’m not going anywhere right now.” 

Mitsutada had been avoiding any sudden movements that could aggravate Ookurikara’s wounds but for now all logical reasoning goes out the window as he just takes Ookurikara into his arms.

Ookurikara stiffens a bit before relaxing into Mitsutada’s embrace. Despite the initial pain that came with the somewhat crushing hug-- even when holding back, the tachi’s strength could be a little too much-- he finds there’s no place he’d rather be than in the arms of his better half. 

Because Mitsutada has enough kindness for the entire citadel, enough love in his heart to make even the coldest of swords warm up under his influence. 

Because Mitsutada taught him to love and Ookurikara is convinced there is no way he could ever repay Mitsutada for making him feel like maybe there’s something that makes piloting this stupid flesh vessel worth it.

But at the same time he knows this isn’t going to last forever. This war, their existence… And if he has the choice, he wants to go first. 

Because he knows if it was the other way around he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. 

He wouldn’t be able to go on. 

Mitsutada had always been more well-adjusted than him anyways. 

“Kara-chan…?” Mitsutada’s gentle voice brings him back to reality and Ookurikara realizes with his head resting against Mitsutada’s shoulder he had gotten the tachi’s blazer wet. 

“I’m sorry…” His throat feels tight and all he wants is to not feel like he just put a giant burden on Mitsutada by confessing something he swore to keep to himself, but he can’t take it back now. 

Mitsutada wipes the tear tracks off Ookurikara’s face and pushes his hair back before kissing him on the forehead. “I love you. And it’s not just me. Sada-chan and Kasha-kun and Tsuru-san, and the saniwa too, we all care about you.”

He knows that. He knows they care. And yet that doesn’t change a thing. 

But Mitsutada doesn’t need to know that. 

In the end, if it protects the ones he loves…

Fight alone, die alone, he’s fine with that. 

Chapter Text

Ookurikara is this close to physically removing Tsurumaru from his room. 

He’s sure if he tells the saniwa having Tsurumaru around him is bad for his recovery, she’ll assign the crane tachi to some task and free him from his suffering. 

But unfortunately the saniwa is at a meeting and won’t be back for a few hours. And the last five times he asked Tsurumaru to leave he was met with increasingly ridiculous excuses as to why it was imperative for the tachi to stay with him. 

“But what happens if you start coughing up blood again? No one will be around to help you-- everyone’s either dealing with chores or out on expeditions. Not to mention the repair room is full after the team that was just out on a sortie came back--” 

“At least I won’t have to listen to your annoying voice-- wait what do you mean again ?”

“You don’t even remember. Fair enough, you were pretty delirious when we got back to the citadel.” 

Was he? It had all happened so fast, by the time he had whipped around to deal with the enemy sword that had approached him from behind it had already been too late. Somehow despite being practically impaled he managed to finish the enemy off, though he supposes he has his dragon to thank for that. He can’t recall anything that happened between that and when he woke up at the citadel. 

“I’m sure you’re getting tired of just laying there so why don’t we take a trip to the kitchen? Don’t worry, I’ll take the blame if it comes down to that.”

Not that he was on strict bed rest anymore, but the saniwa, Mitsutada, Yagen, and basically anyone he interacted with ever since the first unit returned to the citadel insisted that he shouldn’t strain himself. Even though he could argue that interacting with Tsurumaru counts as straining himself. 

But for once Tsurumaru is making a reasonable suggestion so maybe he’ll put up with him for now.

Chapter Text

While many of the swords view kitchen duty as just another chore, to Mitsutada it’s more of a calling. He’s not one to brag but he likes to think he’s rather good at cooking, at least to the point where the saniwa has basically given him free reign on all matters related to the kitchen. So for the sake of everyone’s taste buds only a select few are in charge of cooking meals for the citadel. 

Except none of his usual co-chefs are available at the moment. Kasen and Azuki are out on expeditions, Horikawa is on field duty, Sadamune ran off to the general store for something, and Ookurikara is…

“If you keep spacing out any longer the sauce is going to thicken beyond saving.”

Yeah, he would say something like that. 

Wait. 

“Kara-chan?!”

Tsurumaru peeks out from behind Ookurikara, and Mitsutada has no idea when the two even got here. “Surprise!”

Mitsutada blinks as Ookurikara turns the flame down. “You’re… feeling alright enough to be moving around?”

“No. I came here in agony for the sole purpose of making sure you don’t burn the citadel down.” Ookurikara crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m fine.”

“He’s bored out of his mind.” Tsurumaru adds. 

“Well, in that case you can take a seat and watch Tsuru-san do the dishes while I get lunch ready.” Mitsutada prefers to have the dishes cleaned as he’s using them instead of having a giant pile to deal with at the end, considering the fact that the plates and utensils alone are a big enough stack. Usually the tantous help out with that but for some reason after breakfast someone-- or was it multiple someones-- decided to throw some dishes, resulting in quite a few shattered plates. No one wants to admit who did it, so Mitsutada is going to have to talk to Ichigo after the Awataguchi tachi gets back from the expedition.  

“Wow, Mitsu-bou. Wait, I thought I was banned from kitchen duty.”

“You’re banned from cooking unsupervised. Not from washing the dishes.”

“Okay fine.” 

Ookurikara, decidedly, does not take a seat and instead grabs a spoon and samples the curry. “Could be spicier.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Tsurumaru protests. “He’s crazy-- okay maybe not as crazy as Kikkou, but the rest of the citadel prefers a normal level of spices.” He turns to Ookurikara. “Also didn’t Yagen say not to eat anything too spicy until you recover completely?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, guess I’ll tell Aruji to put you on field duty tomorrow--”

Ookurikara suddenly doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. 

“Kara-chan!” Mitsutada holds Ookurikara in his arms, and the uchigatana takes a shaky breath. Mitsutada is about to tell him he should have stayed in their room and rested but he figures pointing that out won’t do him any good. “Do you want me to carry you back?” He asks softly. 

Ookurikara shakes his head, and instead stares at Tsurumaru.

Chapter Text

Kashagiri stares in awe at the shelves full of an assortment of goods, some of which he has never even seen before. He grabs one of the mystery objects that seems to resemble the gun that Mutsunokami has, but this thing is a lot more colorful. Also it doesn't look like it can shoot bullets. He wonders what it could possibly be used for.

Taikogane has been filling up a basket with various items, mostly snacks. “Pick up whatever you want Kasha, Micchan gave me more than enough koban. Which is crazy because he usually doesn’t want me splurging. Even though we have like a million koban thanks to Hakata’s stock stuff.”

“Must be nice.” Fudou snorts. “Hasebe didn’t give me anything and Souza could only spare the leftover that Sayo didn’t use on their last shopping trip.” 

“Then tell me what you want and I’ll get it for ya!” Taikogane beams. “Except--”

“Yeah yeah, no amazake. Come on, Sada, you know I haven’t touched a drink since I got back from Honnouji. Why would I now?” 

“I’m so proud of you, Yuki-chan!” Taikogane places a quick kiss on Fudou’s cheek before darting off to another aisle, leaving the purple-haired tantou blushing furiously. 

“Seriously, Sada?! In the store?!” Fudou sighs and shakes his head. “He hangs around Shokudaikiri way too much, that dateotoko .”

Kashagiri supposes the two blue-haired Date swords do share the tendency to be overly affectionate. He has witnessed his brother grumbling about Shokudaikiri not giving a damn about who was around them, though Kashagiri is sure if Ookurikara was really bothered by his partner’s tendency to indulge in PDA he would tell him. 

While Fudou goes after Taikogane, Kashagiri wanders into another aisle, where a sign catches his eye. 

‘How to Make Your Own Omamori!’ 

The instructions seem easy enough for him to follow, though there are so many customization options available he finds it difficult to choose. 

“Are you interested in making an omamori, sir?”

Kashagiri turns in surprise and finds himself face to face with the shopkeeper, a young woman with wavy purple hair. He reads her nametag. “Sumire…san? Uh, yes. Maybe.”

“Well, all the materials are right here and there’s a table as well if you want to sit here while you make it. Though you can just take the materials home too, it’s up to you. And don’t worry about paying, this one’s on me.” Sumire smiles at him. 

“Thank you Sumire-san, I’ll… make it here.” 

It was about time Ookurikara got assigned to a sortie. He was getting tired of people asking him how he was. Sure he had almost died but was it really that big of a deal? More importantly Tsurumaru had caught onto him faking his way out of anything he didn’t feel like doing so if he’s stuck doing laundry duty with Kasen he would rather go get himself stabbed again.

As usual Mitsutada is taking forever to get ready, and when the shoji to their room opens Ookurikara is convinced that it’s Hasebe coming to drag Mitsutada out, but instead Kashagiri peeks in. 

“Kara-nii… is now a bad time or…?”

“No, come in.”

Kashagiri enters the room, clutching something in his hand. He holds it out to Ookurikara. “Here. For you.”

Ookurikara takes the omamori, the purple silk decorated by a dragon scale pattern not unlike the one on his arm, and the golden cord somehow reminding him of the tassel in Mitsutada’s outfit. He notices a seemingly random ink mark on the corner. 

The cat youkai sitting in Kashagiri’s hood bounces onto Ookurikara’s shoulder. 

“Ah, the guy got into the ink while I was writing and--” Kashagiri starts to explain but goes silent when Ookurikara pats his head. 

“Thank you.” A small smile forms on his face. 

“Kara-nii…” Kashagiri suddenly hugs Ookurikara. “Please be more careful. If… if for some reason you don’t come back… I don’t think I could…” He chokes back a sob. “Please don’t leave me!”

“Kasha… I’m not going to…” He can’t make any promises. Given the nature of their mission, the reason for their existence, he can’t say that he’s definitely going to come back. So instead he holds his brother in his arms, until the wakizashi decides to let go. 

“Sorry, because of me the rest of the team must be waiting for you…” 

“No, it’s fine--”

Hasebe barges into the room, walks straight past the two of them and slaps the comb out of Mitsutada’s hand. 

“How did five more minutes become half an hour?!”

Chapter Text

This was supposed to be a sortie. 

So why are they having a picnic? 

Though Hasebe supposes picnic is a misnomer considering the fact that they’re just standing around but this feels an awful lot like their last picnic, with a certain pair of swords nowhere to be found. And to be fair they had already defeated the enemy.

Taikogane and Fudou have already finished their onigiri and have moved on to the dango. Seriously, why did Shokudaikiri insist on bringing all this food for what was supposed to be a rather short mission? 

And of course Tsurumaru is back at it with the binoculars. 

“Can’t believe they ditched us again .” Tsurumaru takes a bite of dango while observing the other two Date swords who had decided to leave Hasebe with the most annoying people in the world. Though for the time being Taikogane and Fudou are too busy talking to each other to bother him.

“I think it suits you. The dango, that is.” 

The dango. Suits him. What does that even mean ? 

Ookurikara looks at Mitsutada in confusion. Is this another thinly-veiled attempt at calling him cute? He scowls, though Mitsutada is definitely aware that there’s no bite to it. Except he realizes that’s only proving the tachi’s point. 

Mitsutada smiles at him in response, and Ookurikara almost goes up to him to shove the dango down his throat but he decides against it.

Chapter Text

“The mysterious konpeitou that makes you stronger?” Hana almost laughs at the tantou’s request. She decides not to tell him that she just buys the konpeitou in bulk from the general store. Sure Azuki makes some occasionally but she can’t expect him to set up a full-time konpeitou stand. “Is that what everyone’s been calling it?”

“That’s what Taikogane told me.” Kuki says, and Hana thinks Tsurumaru’s antics are having too much of an effect on the Date tantou. Creating rumors about the konpeitou of all things. 

“They’re actually in the kitchen with the rest of the snacks but since you came all the way here,” she pulls a pack of konpeitou out from her desk drawer. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks!” Kuki takes the packet and observes it. “This looks an awful lot like the konpeitou Kasha got from the store the other day… Wait… That Taikogane! He was making stuff up, wasn’t he?”

Now was there an off chance that for some reason konpeitou of all things somehow imbued extra strength to the swords? Who knows. Maybe she’ll ask Nankaitarou to run some experiments. 

Chapter Text

Just one sip. 

The citadel was having a party, not that Fudou even remembers what it was for anymore, and for some reason he decided just one sip wouldn’t hurt. Except that one sip became one glass, and then two, and then… 

He had thought he had finally come clean but clearly he didn’t have the restraint he thought he did. 

By now his head is pounding and he doesn’t even remember how much he had-- or what he had, because it clearly wasn’t amazake. Fudou staggers back to his room and just sits in a corner, not realizing when the tears start to fall, and he doesn’t know how much time has passed before someone else enters the room. 

“Yuki-chan? What’s wrong?” 

Sadamune kneels in front of him, and Fudou looks up from burying his face in his knees. His vision is blurry and he doesn’t know if it’s from the crying or the intoxication. 

“I…” he hiccups. “I drank. I know I shouldn’t have-- I wasn’t going to-- I don’t know why--” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say at this point and just sobs. 

Sadamune pulls Fudou into a hug, “It’s okay, we all mess up sometimes. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it.” 

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Sadamune wipes Fudou’s cheek with his thumb. 

“I promised I wouldn’t drink anymore…” 

“At least you’re owning up to what you did. And just because you slip up once it doesn’t erase all the progress you’ve made.” 

“You’re too nice…” Fudou doesn’t understand why Sadamune is so kind to him. Even back when he used to be drunk all the time, instead of berating him like Hasebe would or look at him disapprovingly like Souza or Yagen would, Sadamune never tried to change him. The Date tantou just accepted him as he was and waited for him to be ready to move on from Nobunaga. Well, at least as close to ‘moving on’ as he could get. His former master was still an irreplaceable part of him, but at least now he could accept the past. “It would be one thing if I could just drink in moderation but apparently I’m too useless to even be able to do that--”

“Yuki-chan, what did I say about putting yourself down?” Sadamune frowns. “You’re not useless. Anyways, didn’t Yagen say that alcohol does things to your brain to make you not want to stop or something like that? So technically it’s not your fault.”

“I guess…” 

“Do you want me to get you some water? Oh, there’s dessert now too, Micchan and Azuki made chocolate truffles! I can bring that here too if you want.” 

Fudou wipes his face with his sleeve, a smile forming. “You don’t have to bring anything here. We’re supposed to be having fun today so let’s go back and rejoin everyone else.” 

Sadamune smiles back at him, and Fudou swears this guy is an angel. “I’m so proud of you, Yuki-chan!” 

“Yeah I know, you say that like every day.” He rolls his eyes before placing a kiss on Sadamune’s cheek, which seems to render the Date tantou speechless. “Thanks.” 

Chapter Text

When Kashagiri first arrived at the citadel, to say he was overwhelmed is an understatement. 

With over a hundred inhabitants, the place is way too lively for his liking, especially after coming from Iko, which was shrouded in darkness. 

Though… is this really worse than hearing the call of the other side? 

He still doesn’t know everyone’s names yet, just the first unit that he had returned with, which included his brother. Taikogane and Fudou seem friendly enough, so do Tsurumaru and Shokudaikiri, though he has mixed feelings about the two tachi, for completely different reasons. 

Tsurumaru had informed him that the citadel had a ritual where new swords were to introduce themselves in front of everyone in an official gathering, and Kashagiri was about to freak out because there was no way he could get up in front of that many people and talk, but Ookurikara quickly reassured him there was no such thing and that Tsurumaru was being obnoxious. 

As for Shokudaikiri… Something about him made Kashagiri nervous for reasons he could not understand. The eyepatched tachi treated him warmly, and maybe it was just a matter of Kashagiri not being used to such warmth. And Kashagiri didn’t really interact much with Hasebe but the uchigatana seemed rather business-minded. 

And then there’s Ookurikara. Kashagiri feels an unexplainable admiration for his older brother. The dragon familiar has to be the coolest thing Kashagiri has ever seen, though Ookurikara doesn’t seem to let it out very often. Meanwhile the youkai that has attached itself to Kashagiri also appears to share a fondness for the Hiromitsu uchigatana (and the Date tachi that seems to always be hovering around him, but Kashagiri thinks it may just be the fact that those two spoil the youkai the most). 

He still isn’t sure what this thing is. The youkai somewhat resembles a cat, but he isn’t sure if he would call it that or not. 

The youkai decided to bounce onto another sword, who had been walking down the hall eating a large onigiri. The red hoodie-clad wakizashi (at least Kashagiri thinks he’s a wakizashi) stops in his tracks. Kashagiri then realizes he may have been staring a little too much at the bandages on the sword’s neck.

“The hell is this?” The annoyance in his voice is clear, and when he turns to look at him Kashagiri almost yelps at the glare he’s being given.

“I am so sorry…” Kashagiri grabs the youkai off the other sword’s shoulder and admonishes the fluffball. “I told you not to jump onto people like that.” 

“The thing is yours? Tch, shoulda known. Thought it belonged to one of the Date, considering the thing is always in the kitchen.” 

Kashagiri sighs. He’s going to have to talk to the kitchen duty swords about not overindulging the youkai. He already feeds it regularly but somehow the youkai ends up getting more food than it needs. But the thought of talking to Shokudaikiri… maybe he’ll get Ookurikara to do it for him? No, he’s pretty sure Ookurikara is the number one offender for giving the youkai whatever it wants. 

“You are feeding it properly, right?” The wakizashi raises a brow at him.

“I am…” At this point he’s convinced the youkai eats more than he does. “I think some of the other swords have just been overindulging it. Sorry for bothering you.” He darts off to his room, hoping he didn’t anger the other sword too much.

Chapter Text

There’s a reason Ookurikara would make himself scarce during the honmaru’s annual horror movie viewing parties. Well, multiple reasons. 

Mitsutada had figured that the noisy environment-- some of the swords were more prone to screaming than others-- was what had put him off, but apparently it hadn’t been just that (and the fact that Ookurikara supposedly ‘wasn’t interested’ in horror). 

Ookurikara spent most of the movie clinging to Mitsutada if not straight up burying his face in Mitsutada’s chest (something Tsurumaru is never going to let him live down). Mitsutada almost finds it cute. Almost. Because Hasebe is clinging to him too. 

“An uchigatana on each arm, huh.” Tsurumaru quips, ignoring the gorefest on the screen. “What a lucky man.” 

“What does that even mean ?” Somehow Ookurikara and Hasebe say at the same time and Mitsutada supposes they aren’t too shaken up if they can still react to Tsurumaru like that. 

“Tsuru-san, please don’t say such strange things.” Mitsutada knows there’s no reasoning with the crane tachi but he tries regardless.

Chapter Text

With the amount of blood on his hands, Ishikirimaru wonders if he can even be called a divine sword anymore. 

These were no history retrograde soldiers, they were humans, just doing their part in the flow of history. Ishikirimaru could say that he was doing the same, taking on the role of one of Tokugawa Ieyasu’s retainers. But that didn’t make cutting his ‘enemies’ down any easier. 

With each blow, each life taken, his blade feels heavier, but to stop would be to forfeit his duty. 

“Be purified, be cleansed.” 

If he prays enough, will he be able to rid himself of the impurity he has brought upon himself?

Chapter Text

Nihongou doesn’t know much about flowers. So he ends up in the citadel’s library, trying to figure out what bloom symbolizes apology. 

He hadn’t meant to lash out at Fukushima, who had only been concerned for him, even if said concern tended to feel smothering at times. Finding his answer in a book about flower language that had conveniently been left out on one of the tables, he makes his way to the gardens, specifically to the section of hydrangeas. Careful not to ruin the petals, he picks a bundle of the hydrangeas, and realizes that maybe he should have also researched how to keep the flowers alive. 

“Gou-chan?” 

“Ah, Fukushima.” He turns to the tachi, who has a gentle smile on his face. Of course Fukushima must have figured out what he was intending to do as soon as he saw the flowers. Nihongou holds the hydrangeas out to Fukushima. “Uh… for you. Sorry about earlier.” 

Fukushima accepts the bouquet, tears forming in his eyes. “Gou-chan…” Here we go again. Fukushima wraps his arms tightly around Nihongou. “You know I can’t stay mad at you.” 

“I know.” Nihongou strokes Fukushima’s hair in a rare display of affection. He can’t stay mad at Fukushima either.

Chapter Text

Tomoegata will not lose to Heshikiri Hasebe. 

The uchigatana has expressed his disdain for Tomoegata on every occasion he gets, and while many others would become frustrated with being constantly put down, Tomoegata pays it no heed. 

Because in the end the only opinion that matters is the saniwa’s. 

Though it seems clear that when it comes to being close to her side, the Date swords have the advantage. 

No matter, that doesn’t change anything. He will prove his value to the saniwa regardless. 

And though it may be petty… he will not lose to Heshikiri Hasebe.

Chapter Text

The whirring of the printer snaps Hana out of her thoughts. She doesn’t remember printing anything. Maybe it was one of the swords? 

When she had first given them internet access it quickly proved to be a mistake as the tantous somehow ended up on the side of the web where cutesy videos quickly turned into gore, and someone-- she still hasn’t figured out who-- had decided to print out some hentai for offline reading. Now she made sure that the printer couldn’t be wirelessly accessed from any device other than her own, and as for the strange videos it seemed the tantous learned their lesson and stopped going down rabbit holes that would lead them from innocent cat videos to downright horror. 

She walks over to the printer only to find it spewing out images of fried tofu. And she lets out a noise of shock upon seeing the numbers 20 out of 99 on the little screen by the buttons. She immediately cancels the print job and takes the stack of papers. Who could possibly be printing out so many copies of the same image? And for what? 

A certain white haired tachi comes to mind and as soon as she’s about to step out of her office to find him, she notices Konnosuke at the entrance. Wait. 

“Are… are these yours?” She asks the fox, who she’s pretty sure has an entire room devoted to the fried delicacy. 

“Yes. My apologies. I accidentally hit the wrong button and it started printing the maximum amount.” Konnosuke responds ever so politely, and Hana finds it impossible to even be mad. He's just too cute.

“Well, here.” She hands Konnosuke the stack of pictures, and the fox thanks her before happily trotting off. 

Though she still doesn’t understand how he was able to print the images in the first place. She goes back to her computer and checks the permissions for her printer. Strange, she could have sworn she had changed the settings. Did someone change them back? How would they have even done that, no one aside from the attendant has the password to her computer. And none of the swords that have been in that position seemed like the type to pull something like this. Except for…

“Ne, Tsuru-san, can I talk to you for a moment?” 

Chapter Text

“Why do I have to…” Ookurikara is clearly struggling with fixing Mitsutada’s tie. It’s too cute. 

“You never know when you’ll have to dress up.”

“Then you can just do it for me.” The uchigatana frowns at his handiwork. “This just looks wrong.”

“It’s better than your last five attempts.” Mitsutada can’t help but chuckle. “You’re getting better at it.” Sure it’s a little uneven but at least this time it doesn’t look like it was haphazardly thrown on. 

Ookurikara adjusts the positioning slightly and Mitsutada decides now is the perfect time to cup Ookurikara’s face in his hand, briefly relishing the look of surprise on the dragon sword’s face before kissing him. 

He feels Ookurikara’s arms wrap around him and Mitsutada pulls him closer, hand running through Ookurikara’s hair. 

And then the shoji bursts open. 

“Oh, they’re busy.” Sadamune begins to close the shoji but Tsurumaru holds it open as Ookurikara pulls away from Mitsutada and turns to glare at the crane tachi. Mitsutada is already missing the warmth of Ookurikara’s body against his. 

“What do you want?” 

“We’re gonna film a dance video--” Tsurumaru starts but Ookurikara doesn’t even let him finish. 

“No.”

Of course Ookurikara would refuse right away. 

“Come on Kara-chan,” Mitsutada puts a hand on Ookurikara’s shoulder. “It’ll be fun--”

“I am not going.” Ookurikara pulls at Mitsutada’s tie a bit too hard. 

“Kara-chan!” It wasn’t hard enough to choke him or even hard enough to hurt but Mitsutada didn’t appreciate the rough handling of his clothing. That he may be spending more koban than necessary on. “You’re ruining it! Fix it.”

“Why do I have to…” Ookurikara complies anyways, this time doing a pretty decent job at it. Not perfect but he’ll take it. 

“Thank you.” Mitsutada places a quick kiss on Ookurikara’s cheek, earning a snicker from Tsurumaru. He wraps an arm around Ookurikara before the uchigatana can try to go after the crane tachi. “Actually, sorry Tsuru-san, we’re busy.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

While Mitsutada doesn’t dislike summer, he isn’t particularly fond of the heat that comes with it. Becoming covered in sweat is extremely uncomfortable not to mention uncool. Quite literally so. Field duty in this weather is something he doesn’t wish upon anyone, but the plants need to be tended to. 

While he’s very much used to dealing with vegetables, flowers are more of his brother’s expertise. Though today’s assignment wasn’t too difficult, just making sure the patches were properly watered. And given the expanse of the citadel’s gardens there were quite a lot of swords assigned to the task. Even then the only people in sight in the sunflower field are himself and…

“What? Is there something on my face?” Ookurikara raises a brow. 

“No, I just like looking at you.” It’s true, Mitsutada loves looking at Ookurikara, especially while saying something that causes the uchigatana to flush and roll his eyes.

“Dateotoko.” Ookurikara huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“And the sunflowers really suit you.” 

“Really?” The fond annoyance is palpable in his voice. “First the dango, now this.” Ookurikara shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face. “I’m gonna have to stop you right there.”

Maybe he should, Mitsutada isn’t trying to compliment him to the point of tears again. Though he isn’t sure why Ookurikara found it so upsetting. He knows how much Mitsutada loves him. 

And really, the sunflowers do suit him. 

Chapter Text

So this is the cherry blossom tree that Fukushima had been telling him about. 

Jikkyuu gazes at the falling petals, following their descent until his eyes land on a lone figure standing under the tree. 

“Souza.” He approaches the pink-haired uchigatana, who seems to take no notice of him. Or perhaps he’s consciously being ignored. Jikkyuu didn’t think he gave the other Oda sword a reason to dislike him, they got along quite well over tea last week. 

“Ah, Jikkyuu. My apologies.” Souza smiles at him, though as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“No, I should be apologizing, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

“Perhaps it was for the better that you did.” There’s no mistaking the wistfulness in Souza’s gaze. Jikkyuu wishes he could somehow take that pain away. He is well aware of the lasting impact that man had on some of the inhabitants of this citadel. Himself included.

Though he supposes his own scars were purely incidental. The burns on his body and chips in his blade were only a consequence of history, not a conscious decision made by the Demon King.

“I suppose it’s around that time…” Souza muses, the melancholy in his appearance giving way to something more… would it be presumptuous of him to call it hopeful? “Tea?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“What else would it be?” 

Chapter Text

Sometimes Himetsuru wonders what goes through Goke’s mind. 

Rather he wonders if there’s anything up there at all. 

The Uesugi tachi has to resist the urge to grab the comb out of the uchigatana’s hands. Not because he minds Goke brushing his hair, picking out the plum blossom petals that had ended up all over him after a rather strange sortie. 

The oddly scenic battle aside, Himetsuru doesn’t understand why no one in his unit had bothered to inform him of the state of his hair. He supposes at least now he knows why Kashagiri had been silently staring at him the entire way back. (Though he isn’t going to fault the wakizashi for anything.) As for Douyo…

‘It seems your appearance is matching your name, Ohime.’

Oh he will pay dearly for that. 

“Otsuu, you’re raging about something again?” Goke carefully adds another petal to the pile forming on top of the kotatsu. 

While the Osafune sword can be pretty observant at times, he can also be somewhat of an idiot. 

“Gocchin.” Himetsuru picks up a petal, “There is no way you didn’t notice these until now.” 

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement. But I will say they do suit you.”

“Are you…” The poor petal ends up scrunched between his fingers. “Agreeing with Douyo-kun?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that .” There’s a bit of nervousness in Goke’s voice. Good. “I just think the petals make you look even prettier… But I guess that’s basically what he was saying--”

“ Gocchin .” 

“Please spare me, Otsuu~”

Chapter Text

“...Tch. So you found me. I had intended to leave without telling you.”

Mitsutada is well aware of the fact that sometimes Ookurikara just needs some space. But trying to leave the citadel for an unspecified amount of time, and wanting to do so without telling anyone? Something was wrong.

He racks his brain for anything that could have set the uchigatana off, but nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. 

Most swords that would leave for training journeys would at least inform the saniwa. It was only by a stroke of luck that the saniwa had caught Ookurikara before he could disappear. While Ookurikara hadn’t provided any information on what he was doing or why, the saniwa made sure to tell him to write back to her. Whether Ookurikara would actually do so was another matter entirely. 

He could only hope that he wasn’t overthinking it all and Ookurikara would come back unharmed. 

‘Fight alone, die alone, that’s fine with me…’

He keeps telling himself that but how much longer can he lie to himself? 

The last thing he had expected was an ambush by the kebiishi. But he supposes his presence here is an anomaly in their eyes. 

And the more he thinks back on it, the more he regrets leaving without a word to anyone outside of the saniwa who had happened to catch him. But how was he supposed to look Mitsutada in the eye and tell him why he was leaving? 

That he felt he was lacking somehow and the only way to figure out what the hell was wrong with him was to go back and examine the past that he apparently didn’t even remember properly? 

His identity as Date Masamune’s sword during the war? By the time Ookurikara had reached Sendai the fighting was already over. Even his status as a mumeitou was only a matter of his blade being trimmed down from an oodachi. Everything he thought he knew about himself? Wrong. 

And for all his insistence on fighting alone, now that he’s actually doing it…

He isn’t going to last much longer. 

Backed against a tree with no escape, only his own foolishness to blame, this wasn’t how he was planning on going. Not that he was planning on it. Dying, that is. Not like this. 

He scans the kebiishi squadron closing in on him-- three tantou, two uchigatana, and a yari. He had wiped out at least twice that amount already but in the process lost his armor and much of his outerwear. He can already imagine Kasen grumbling about the bloodstains on the tatters that remain, ‘ Might as well throw it all away .’ 

As he goes to swing his sword, his left arm suddenly feels unbearably warm. The scales of the dragon snaking up his arm begin to glow a blinding purple, until the dragon seems to quite literally come off his arm. With a ground-shaking roar the dragon charges at the kebiishi, and Ookurikara steels his resolve. 

“I decide where I die! And that isn’t here!”

With each passing day Mitsutada becomes more and more concerned. The most recent letter the saniwa had received from Ookurikara seemed to imply that the uchigatana would be coming home soon. And yet… 

After retiring from the kitchen for the day, Mitsutada finds himself heading towards the time travel device. 

When Ookurikara returns to the citadel, it’s raining. The first quarter moon is barely visible behind the clouds. And the chill of the winter is beginning to set in. 

“...Kara-chan?” 

There’s no mistaking the mix of surprise, relief, and an inkling of hurt in Mitsutada’s voice. Ookurikara had left without a word, after all. “How long has it been for you?” 

Mitsutada doesn’t even answer his question and instead pulls Ookurikara into his arms. 

Ookurikara sighs, allowing himself to rest in Mitsutada’s embrace. He missed this. He missed him. “...I’m sorry.” 

“Did you find what you were searching for?” 

Ookurikara looks at Mitsutada in confusion before realizing that he really can’t hide anything from him. “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter.” 

While the answer probably raised even more questions, Mitsutada doesn’t pry. And despite the both of them being completely drenched by the rain, neither makes the move to head back inside.

Chapter Text

“Alright, let’s convene.” Midare opens to the first page of a blank notebook with a pink cover full of cutesy stickers. “Though I wish Kyougoku-chan could’ve been here. That sortie order came out of nowhere.”

“Don’t they all come out of nowhere?” Kashuu checks his nails again . 

“Exactly what is this meeting supposed to be about?” Himetsuru asks. 

“I’m afraid that’s not a question with a straightforward answer.” Souza sighs. “We are all left to the whims of Midare’s boredom.”

“Why am I here?” Ookurikara folds his arms over his chest. He was just delivering the snacks Mitsutada had handed him to bring to the tantou’s room. The tachi would have done it himself if he hadn’t been suddenly assigned to that sortie. 

“Anyways,” Midare completely ignores Ookurikara. “I think the first thing we should do is let out some stress.” The tantou scribbles something down in the notebook. 

“That’s a nice shade.” Kashuu peers at the page, admiring the glitter pink ink. “Do you think they sell nail polish in-- hold on Midare. You’re just trying to get gossip out of us, aren’t you? You’re not even in a relationship-- unless you and Kyougoku are--” He shuts up upon receiving a pointed glare from the tantou. 

Midare then gleefully holds up the notebook, reading the question “What bothers you the most about your partner?”

“I’m leaving.” Ookurikara is about to stand only to be held down by Souza’s hands on his shoulders. “ Why are you--”

Souza just gives him a blank stare and Ookurikara decides not to fight it. The last thing he needs is to get on Souza’s bad side. Which is also Jikkyuu’s bad side. A dangerous combination, if you asked him. 

“Let’s start with Kara-chan!” Midare is having way too much fun with this.”

“First off, don't call me that. Second, no.” Ookurikara can’t believe he has to put up with this. 

“I’ll go first.” Himetsuru volunteers. “Lately Gocchin is convinced that someone has been breaking into our room and reorganizing his clothes. Here’s the thing though. It’s me. Because I’m the one that’s putting his stuff away. I don’t get how he hasn’t realized it.” 

“Men are so stupid, am I right?” Midare says, as if this isn’t a room full of men. Though technically when they had filled out the ‘Getting to Know Each Other’ questionnaire that the saniwa had randomly sprung on them one day, for the gender identity question Midare had written ‘secret’, Souza had written ‘unwilling trophy wife’, Kashuu had written ‘beautiful’, and Himetsuru had written ‘no’ in English cursive. 

The only reason Ookurikara even knows this is because he had the misfortune of reading through these forms during his stint as the citadel’s secretary. Mainly to make sure everyone had filled them out properly before giving them to the saniwa. And to make sure any weird shit Tsurumaru decided to write didn’t reach the saniwa’s eyes. Ookurikara is still scarred by Tsurumaru’s answers to the ‘recreational activities’ question. 

“Uh… okay… I’ll go next.” Kashuu clears his throat. “I can’t believe what Nagasone and Yasusada were doing the other day when they got drunk.”

“Oh really?” This seems to pique Midare’s interest for all the wrong reasons.”

“They were having a burping contest ! That’s just disgusting.”

“Oh, yeah, ew.” Midare makes a face before turning to Souza, who still has the same blank stare from earlier. “Okay, we’ll skip you then. Kara-chan?”

“I have nothing to say.” Ookurikara wants to leave . 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re basically married to Mr. Perfect, we know. But there’s gotta be something .” 

“Even if there was, it's none of your business.” The only thing that really bothers him about Mitsutada is his tendency to be a little too observant, to the point where Ookurikara can’t hide anything . Namely his own feelings. 

“Okay then, keep your secrets.” Midare takes a sakura mochi off the plate and bites into it. “Though I guess you can’t complain about a guy that makes stuff that tastes so good.” 

--

Three hours. That’s how much time it takes Midare to recount what every single Awataguchi sword has been up to. In that timeframe Kashuu has given himself a manicure, Souza has started knitting a sweater for Sayo, Himetsuru has been dozing off, and Ookurikara has developed the worst migraine he has had in his entire existence. 

Which is only aggravated by the shouting that begins outside. It’s unintelligible at first but then he hears Sadamune’s voice. 

“The sortie team is back! Has anyone seen Yagen?!” 

Before anyone can say anything Ookurikara runs in the direction of the time travel device. 

“It’s not that bad, really.”

“Shut up .” Ookurikara finishes bandaging Mitsutada’s torso, “You were lucky it didn’t go any deeper. Otherwise…”

The initial panic that had overtaken the citadel had died down once Yagen concluded that the sortie team’s injuries weren’t as grave as they had looked, though that didn’t mean it was nothing to worry about. 

Kashuu is still berating Nagasone and Yamatonokami for being reckless, Himetsuru looks like he wants to smack the incessantly rambling Goke over the head, Souza and Jikkyuu have been sitting in silence this entire time, and Midare is fussing over Kyougoku, who was the least injured, no doubt thanks to the bigger swords shielding him. 

While the recent renovations to the citadel resulted in a larger infirmary, having this many swords in the same room is giving Ookurikara another headache and he wasn’t even the one with injuries. 

“Alright then,” Midare pulls out that cursed notebook out again. “Let’s continue.” 

“But there are men in the room.” Souza says.

Ookurikara has so many questions. The main one being what the hell do they think he is then?! But he isn’t going to bother asking. He’s about to get up when Mitsutada looks at him in confusion, then past him in even more confusion. Ookurikara turns and sees Souza giving him that same blank stare from earlier, and sits back down. 

Kyougoku peers over Midare’s shoulder. “I’m not sure if that’s…” The Masamune sword trails off as Midare holds up the notebook and reads the question out loud. 

“Name the thing you like about your partner the most. Kara-chan, you go first since you decided to skip almost every question.” 

So did Souza but apparently that doesn’t matter. Being interrogated like this was bad enough but in front of the person he’s supposed to be talking about?  

Ookurikara sighs loudly. His eyes briefly meet Mitsutada’s before he decides to stare at the bandage roll next to the tachi instead, face flushing with warmth as his voice comes out softer than usual. “...He feels like home.” Ookurikara abruptly stands and leaves the room, the pink-haired uchigatana’s wrath be damned. 

“Kara-chan.” Mitsutada says softly, taking a seat next to Ookurikara on their bed. He brushes Ookurikara’s hair out of his face, cheeks still warm to the touch. Ookurikara expects him to bring up what he had said earlier but is surprised when instead Mitsutada cups his face with his hand and leaves a feather-light kiss on his lips. Somehow that alone is causing Ookurikara to overheat. 

It’s not like the entire citadel didn’t already know how he felt about the eyepatched tachi. But saying things out loud was not his strong point, especially when it was something so… personal. 

He rests his head against Mitsutada’s shoulder, gently so as to not aggravate any injuries, while Mitsutada takes his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Maybe it’s the fact that they have loved each other for six hundred years, but something about how they don’t even need any words, the way they perfectly fit with each other…

This feels like home.