Chapter Text
"Mikazuki, come take a look."
The tachi turned his dual-colored eyes to the place Master pointed at. Underneath numerous floating lotus, schools of koi fish swam energetically, some playfully bumping onto the stalks, jostling some of the blossoms in the process. What Master pointed at isn't towards the fishes though, rather to an almost obscure duo swimming underneath the surface, a little bit far from their brethren.
One is white-colored, with some black spots adorning its body. Its companion, a purely red-colored koi, swam gleefully around the silent former one, sometimes gently butting its friend. Quiet as it is though, the white koi didn't do anything to shoo or move away from its more active friend, almost as if it's indulging the antics of its more active partner.
But overall, there's nothing really special about those two fishes. Still, Mikazuki indulged his beloved, scattering the remaining fish food on his hand before joining Master on the side of the river. He gently pulled her so that she can snuggle on his side, before once again examining the two fishes that caught her attention, "yes, those two look like a pair of very good friends, indeed."
"Of course. How can they not be, when I found them clinging on to each other in the mud."
"It sounds like an interesting story of their origin. Would you care to enlighten this old man about how they came to be here?"
His master sighed, "several months ago, I found an abandoned pond during our expedition to Mount Hiei. Aside from mud and several dead cattails, only these two fellows remain. I even thought that one of them is already dead at that time. The white one keep swimming around and bumping the red one, sometimes splashing around the surface, almost as if it's trying to call for help."
"In the end, the determination and loyalty of the fish won their survival and continued friendship," Mikazuki smiled, "it will be a very touching story if it's written into a book. Although I suppose it's also due to your own benevolence that also helped ensure their continued life."
She laughed, shaking her head, "you've grown more and more eloquent with your flattery. But you do know that I didn't call you here to wax poetry about me, don't you?"
"Of course," Mikazuki would have gladly do it had she asked him to. Pity, but for now he will settle with just nuzzling the top of her head, "however, I regret that I don't really have any clue about Master's intention to call for me."
"Why don't you take a look at the white one? See if there's any interesting thing you can find about that fellow."
Listening to her, Mikazuki squinted his eyes. Upon closer inspection, the white koi has an interesting black pattern on the left side of its fin. A crescent shaped black pattern, lopsided as it is, resembling a moon. Quite unique pattern, one that bore the same resemblance as his namesake.
"My, my. How rare it is, to see a moon painted on a fish. I suppose this is what caught your interest so?"
"Yes," Mikazuki watched in wonder as a faint red hue spread across her face, giving more allure to her already stunning visage, "I... this might be sappy, but I can't help to think that the two fishes looked similar to us."
No, it's not sappy at all, Mikazuki thought. Now that she mentioned it, he could somehow see that the white koi might be representing him, while the red one is obviously for her. The similarity of those fishes can also be seen due to their own closeness, mirroring Master and his position right now. Tails entangled, hands clasped together.
"I see now. Both of them might be a pair of very 'close' friends indeed."
"Maybe or maybe not. Both of them are just fishes after all. Their notion of relationship are still incomprehensible for us, so things could be different for them," it's the white koi who is now gently bumping the red one on its side, almost as if it's teasing its partner, prompting another chuckle from her, "although I admit that it's quite delightful to think of them in some kind of relationship similar to us."
At this point, Mikazuki already knew that Master also find herself being content with their relationship, but hearing direct admission of it still made him very happy nonetheless, "hahaha, yes. Being in love is very wonderful, indeed."
No verbal response, but from the way Master smiled and tenderly stroked his hand, the sentiment is well-received without any arguments. Both of them went silent for a while, only basking in the other's presence and the occasional splash of hyperactive fishes. Not for long though, since Mikazuki finally spoke to break the silence, "I've once read in a book that koi fish also symbolize something else."
"Really? I hope it's something auspicious."
"Indeed, it is," he made sure to look at her eyes when he continued, "they have many meanings. Some said they symbolizes strength, other said they also carried good luck. However, I'm quite fond of the other meaning, 'perseverance over adversity'."
His master's smile widened, "well, that is a valiant meaning. And also an encouragement for our current standing in this war."
She turned so that her body was fully facing forward to him, holding both of his hand. Mikazuki poetically thought that their intertwined hands resembled those of a devotee praying for fortune and success. His beloved eyes sparkled, and he could somehow see a glimmer of mirth and hope inside those russet eyes, "Mikazuki, while symbol is just that, a symbol, never once did I stop believing that our successes in this war will be everlasting. I have faith that we can and will prosper during our time protecting history."
"Dear me, my lotus," he felt like they're just like protagonists from some sappy romance drama, who threw out lines after lines of flowery words, but he simply couldn't help it. She sometimes made him felt like an inexperienced young man who just got his first taste of nectar-sweet love, "I won't deny our contributions in fighting for history, but don't you think that you are excluding your own role in this? You have given us so much support, so much care and reprieve from all of the battles. I dare say, were you not placed in this citadel, I'm afraid we won't have any chance to continue our cause. You are simply... a blessing, a fortune for us. And for that, do know that we all are very thankful to have you here as our Master."
"You!" even though her tone is scolding, her mouth spread into such a wide grin, joyful chortle ringing, "I really want to know where did you learn how to talk like that! Have you ever thought you will be a total heartbreaker if you were to live in modern times? Every single word going out from your mouth is designed to make any maiden's heart flutter."
The words he had just thrown weren't empty flatteries, never for her. To him, and most certainly all of his comrades here, her arrival here simply is a fortune, a good karma for all of them who have preserved and joined hands in fighting for their security.
Mikazuki joined her laughter, feeling his own heart going so, so full and heavy from his adoration towards her, "it's a good thing then that I plan to say these words only for you alone, dearest."
"A relief then, I wouldn't want to associate with a playboy or a cheater, of course," she joked, her whole countenance softened, "I hope that our prosperity and our continued victory will be everlasting, forever and ever."
With a breathless 'yes', Mikazuki pulled her into a hug, eyes gradually closing to plant a kiss on her own lips.
He felt it then, something wet and sticky staining his arms, and her body going limp. Puzzled, Mikazuki opened his eyes, confusion turned to horror when he saw red, dark red, staining his armor, coating the edge of his kimono with crimson.
And the sight of her blank eyes, no longer looking at him, her body growing cold, cold, freezing cold, gaping wound across her body, intestines peeking out like a macabre version of a doll with its stuffing out. Shifting a bit, he can hear some sickening squishes (is that her lung ohGoditis-), feet slipping a bit from the ever growing puddle of blood under her body. Mikazuki raised his left hand, tremor shaking his own core when he caught sight of the sticky, red liquid. He wanted to scream, cry, he tried to move, but his whole body feels heavy, just like when he's still but a mere blade.
(He can't move, WHY CAN'T HE MOVE?!)
Or perhaps it's the voice of a dying woman in his arms, which was the one who rendered him still, brain going haywire with terror, regret, sorrow, fear... Mikazuki knew that he started to breath shallowly, blurry eyes never straying away from the stock still corpse, focusing on the way her mouth keep moving and spewing litanies of words.
"Mikazuki, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'msorry, I'msorrysorrysorrySORRYI'MSORRY-!"
-he woke up. He woke up.
Frantic scrambling, in his hurry he stumbled on his own futon, sight unfocused except for his own sword on the stand nearby. His true body, one that could surely protect her. He would have succeeded on snatching the blade, had some strong force didn't yank his body back, stopping him from taking his weapon.
Mikazuki fought, scratching at something that was gripping his shoulder. Dimly, he felt that he could hear a pained hiss, but that doesn't matter. He had to get out, wherever this was. He must find her, chase her wherever she is right now. His beloved, his darling, Guren, Guren, she's in danger, why can't they understand this-
"-kazuki! Oi! Calm down-!"
Calm down? Calm down? How can he, when the sensation of her cold body was the last thing he felt before he woke up. Rage, an emotion so unlike what he usually felt, consumed him, and he fought, struggled, tried to scratch and bite whatever is holding him back.
The thing that restrained him didn't budge, much to his own frustration. For a moment, he considered biting down whatever is now looping around his neck, hauling him back to the futon. He missed his chance when the thing (finally!) removed itself from his neck, although he frantically twisted his body when said thing clamped down on his arm, and why are they holding down his body too?
Mikazuki's sure he heard himself screaming, an action so unlike his usual dignified self, but every sound felt like its thousand miles away, distorted and garbled. Vaguely, he felt a sharp prick on his forearm, and then his sight was gone too, hurling him into darkness once again.
This time when he woke up, there are no nightmares, nor the sight of gore following him to lucidity. His sense of smell is the first to come, recognizing the aroma of gyokuro, the scent both soothing and melancholic. A rustle of clothing, gentle swipe through his hair. Sound, followed by touch. Mundane as they were, these actions succeeded in anchoring him more to the waking world. Gingerly, he opened his eyes, blinking back the sight of his room's ceiling.
Mikazuki attempted to sit up, only to groan when headache suddenly strikes him, prompting him to drop back to his futon. His body would hit the bed much harder, had it not for a sturdy arm catching him, lowering him back gently.
"While it's refreshing to see you so energetic, Yagen sadly told me that you're under strict bed rest until the effects of his sleeping drug diminished," Kogitsunemaru. Mikazuki blinked, meeting the other tachi's gaze, "he said that he already lowered the usual dose, but I somehow doubt it. You've been asleep for almost two days, as expected of former Oda's sword. Ruthless, the lot of them."
His brother chuckled, clearly his last remark was just a minute grumbling, and not really intending to viciously badmouth Yagen. An attempt to humor the situation they're in right now, but it's obviously not working. There's a strain on Kogitsunemaru's smile, and in the tachi's red eyes, Mikazuki saw badly concealed sorrow and rage.
Mikazuki knew, he had seen it with his own eyes even. However the sight of his fellow Sanjou's obscure despair still sent bile up his throat, heart plummeting down. The untold confirmation that they won the battle, but lost their leader. Still. Still...
"Kogi-" coughs rattling his body, parched throat reminding him that he hasn't eaten nor drunk anything for several days, if his brother's words were to be believed. The successive coughs somehow hurt his head even more, to the point that Mikazuki let out a soft whine, clutching his head. A straw hit his lips, he sipped the thankfully warm water provided. After his thirst had been quenched, he cleared his throat a few times before continuing, "...Kogitsunemaru. What... what happened these past few days?"
There's sympathy in Kogitsunemaru's eyes now, and Mikazuki loathed it. He didn't want any sympathy nor pity right now. It can't bring her back. It can't, and will never be. Kogitsunemaru soon closed his eyes though, and bowing his head like he's ashamed, recounted everything the citadel faced during the time Mikazuki's unconscious.
After Master's demise, as expected, the entire citadel has fallen into chaos. All the enemies had perished, and so there are no outlets for the enraged and mourning touken danshi to let out their emotions. The younger swords, mostly the tantous, were either mute with shock from the sight of their beloved Master's corpse, or just straight up bawling their eyes out, praying and begging for their lady to sit back up, that she would laugh and told them that everything was just a joke, perhaps an elaborate prank set up by the more mischievous swords, macabre as it is.
Houchou, in particular, was screaming his little lungs out, calling out their Master's name over and over again, hugging her and refusing to let go even when her blood began caking on his face. It took the effort of Ichigo and Tsurumaru, both sporting grim face and reddened eyes, to pry off the tantou's surprisingly strong grip from their Master's cold body. The poor boy was already hiccuping but still struggling weakly, helpless from the strength of two tachis dragging him away inside the citadel to reconvene with his other brothers.
No one reacted on Houchou's tantrum, some looking away with unshed tears and busying themselves herding their own family, even when he's still repeatedly crying for Master to 'come back, she still hasn't teach me how to make tanghulu, why are you leaving her–'
While some swords ushered the young tantous, the more aggressive ones began to hurl accusations towards each other, some admonishing those who used to voice their doubts explicitly towards Master. Blames and bitter reminders of past transgressions against Master were brought up, and in no time at all, the yard was filled with shouts and growls, masking their disbelief over the entire situation. The more quick-tempered swords would have duked it out right then and there, had Hasebe didn't yell at them to stop fighting. It's obvious that the usually stern uchigatana was as shaken as the rest of them, given the fact that he didn't immediately launch into a long lecture about upholding their dignity as touken danshi like he's so fond to do during assembly. His next words quieten the entire ranks, sending all of those who remained in the yard into shameful solemnity.
"At the very least," his hoarse, quite voice drifted in the silence, trembling from anguish, "let Master rest in peace. Don't disturb her from these kind of petty squabbles."
Those words were the ones which finally gave them clarity over what had just transpired. The master that they've been waiting for since manifesting, their kind and wise lady who finally gave them home, the one who had always protected them and never got angry at them, is gone. From then on, there's only mournful silence, some of them finally shedding tears and swallowed back hiccups upon setting sight on Master's mangled body. Norimune is the one who eventually broke the long silence, quietly suggesting them to move Master's body inside, so that she can be properly cleaned before rigor mortis set in.
Kogitsunemaru wove the tale full of tragedy so masterfully that Mikazuki could even taste the grief that were surely present at that time. But why can't he remember all of these?
When he asked this though, his brother looked at him, before heaving a sigh, "after Master's... sacrifice. Mikazuki... you went into shock."
It turns out that he didn't remember anything, after he heard his beloved's repeated apology before she sighed her last breath, because his body just... shut down. Kogitsunemaru told him that while majority of the tantous have bawled their eyes out and most of them began to tear upon each other's sins towards their Master, Mikazuki spent the entire time in daze, cradling her body with unseeing eyes. He didn't say anything nor cry, not even responding when the other Sanjou called out to him.
According to the other tachi, Mikazuki only hugged Master's corpse silently, staring at her. But when the others tried to take her body away, that's when he showed any reaction. Or aggression, is what Kogitsunemaru preferred to call it. Mikazuki had actually snarled at Iwatooshi who attempted to pry her body, hugging her much more tightly and refusing to let go.
"You're actually seconds away from brandishing your sword against all of us," Kogitsunemaru tap the rim of his mug, tone remained neutral, "you didn't even let our Imanotsurugi near her. It's just... just like you were possessed. You were so far gone, I was afraid that we're going to lose you too. Yagen had to sedate you so that the others can take care of her body."
So that's why. Mikazuki once heard about how one's grief could make one lost their mind, to the point that they may as well be no more than a living corpse. Near catatonic, only moving by instinct, too lost in their own despair. He suspected that back then, the fresh shock of holding his darling's rapidly cooling body, coupled by the immense guilt of suspecting her days before, had made him act like a madman. One whose beloved has been taken away, ripped apart in front of their very own eyes.
Right now, the phase of shock and disbelief has passed, leaving him with hollow heart and heavy feeling of lost. His mind is clear, yet empty.
He flinched when a pair of arms hugged him gently, a little bit surprising given the fact that he once again sank into his own contemplation. Kogitsunemaru patted his back, as if trying to console him. Only then did Mikazuki realize that his cheek were wet with his tears.
Mikazuki closed his eyes, allowing more tears to come out. He covered his face, bumping his head on Kogitsunemaru's shoulder, finally letting go all of his heartache. Sobbing and weeping freely in his brother's arms, instead of feeling relieved, the chasm in his chest keep growing and growing. Mikazuki almost wished for the emptiness to swallow him whole, just so that the immense pain he felt in his heart will finally go away.
She's gone, he thought, delirious and frantic, she really is gone, and she won't be back this time. This is no prank, this is reality, she's gone and we did nothing to help nor stop her. Some good touken danshi we are. How useless, can't even properly protect and cherish one Master that spoiled us so. What have we done? What are we going to do now?
"...we'll find a way. We always do, Mikazuki. We'll be alright."
Lies. Sweet lies that did nothing to stop Mikazuki from letting out a silent anguished scream, mourning for their uncertain future and hating himself for surviving when she did not.
Time passed by in a blur. Mikazuki felt that they've stayed in that same position, the consoled and the one consoling, for hundreds of years, shedding tears for the woman who is now unreachable by them. Yet, when soft knocks came from the door, they were informed that it was only just past few minutes after dinner were served. By that time, the only feeling he had left was exhaustion.
"My cute little brother worked hard on today's meal," Fukushima flashed a smile that for once doesn't reach his eyes, "and it's a delight to see you're finally awake, Mikazuki. Perhaps both of you esteemed Sanjous could finally join us. He'll appreciate whatever input you two have regarding his craft."
Kogitsunemaru nodded, thanking the older Mitsutada. Fukushima left, but Mikazuki could still hear the shuffling of his feet, standing by near his room. He then turned to Mikazuki.
"Alright then. Do you want to come to dining hall, or are your old bones still screaming at you to just sit still right here?"
Another jest, trying to dispel the previous somber mood. Despite that, Mikazuki cracked a small smile, the first in what he felt for days, "I'm not yet so old as not being able to walk few steps, Kogitsunemaru. Besides, a fresh air will also do good for my body."
"So be it then. Here, I'll help you."
Mikazuki felt every joints in his body protesting when he attempted to rise. The Tenka Goken heaved a sigh, feeling sore due to staying on one position for so long. He felt sweaty and gross, tired due to his prior crying session. A banal act such as eating certainly is the last thing he's thinking about right now.
However, he very well couldn't refuse the effort Shokudaikiri had mustered. Mikazuki knew that the younger tachi too, must have been -and still is- grieving. To prepare a huge, sumptuous dinner just like nothing is wrong... perhaps feeding gaggle of starving, still mourning warriors might be Shokudaikiri's way to cope for their loss too.
The other tachi gently tugged him, helping Mikazuki to stand. After only laying down for these past few days, Mikazuki felt his balance was shot, and he couldn't really feel his legs. Still, Kogitsunemaru held his hand and patiently guided him to his closet, taking a blue haori (it was sewn and given by Lady Guren, his heart once again ached) to drape over his shoulder, before they trudged their way outside his room.
As expected, Fukushima is still waiting for them, giving them another small smile before walking ahead them. The younger sword deliberately used slower pace than usual, waiting for them -or particularly Mikazuki- to catch up before continuing. The gesture somehow infuriated and touched him at the same time.
He felt like an invalid old man befitting of his true age, yet grateful for their consideration due to the stiffness his body still sported. Thankfully none of them offered to carry him, or he would have snapped already.
Compared to the usual rambunctious dining hall, when they entered, they were greeted by silence. Clinks of utensils and quiet sniffling were the only noises accompanying the somber feast, majority of the sniffles coming from the Awataguchi table. Usually, whenever Mikazuki entered the Awataguchi children's vicinity, he'll be greeted by choruses of childish and joyful voices, especially from those who are particularly spoiled. But now, only Ichigo and Yagen gave him a muted smile in greeting. Others, like Honebami and Onimaru gave him a slight nod, but the rest of them were too busy from either swallowing sobs or hurriedly gulping down their soup.
Understandable, really. Mikazuki's nose caught the usual appetizing smell accompanying each and every of Shokudaikiri's cooking, yet despite his stomach growling, he didn't feel any urge to eat or drink anything. Clearly most, if not all touken danshi here were also in similar predicament here. Only years of camaraderie towards the one-eyed tachi and basic courtesy kept them from letting all the food gone to waste.
Kogitsunemaru was still holding his hand, already trusting him to not fall flat on his face now. Still, his fellow Sanjou guided him towards their usual table, giving nods towards their remaining family members. Both Ishikirimaru and Iwatooshi still managed to give him welcoming smiles, poor little Imanotsurugi thankfully wasn't crying, but his swollen red eyes told him that the smallest Sanjou didn't escape from his own grieving unscathed.
Morbidly, he thought about this eerily similar scene to those when they were still underneath the mercy of the previous Saniwas. Somber atmosphere in the dining hall were very common back then, with all the abuses and constant denial of their basic needs. Before, the tears were full of frustration and helplessness towards their situation. But, right now...
Deep down, there's a sliver of joy in his heart, that Master had managed to earn all of their love and respect, a feat that most of them had thought to be impossible the first time she set foot in this citadel.
"It's good to see you finally joining us again, Mikazuki," the ever gentle Ishikirimaru, patted Mikazuki's shoulder when the Tenka Goken took his seat between the ootachi and Kogitsunemaru, "Yagen's medicine always works wonderfully. How are you feeling right now?"
"Sore," Mikazuki felt deep exhaustion draping over his body like some kind of mourning veil, but he still managed to give a wry smile towards the other Sanjou, "I felt like I was asleep for more than hundred years. Laying down for a long time clearly didn't suit my old bones very well."
Ishikirimaru only gave a short chuckle, obviously not in the mood to pretend for levity. While his face remained the usual clear one, Mikazuki noticed the emptiness in the ootachi's eyes, and knew that he too, was still grieving. In turn, Mikazuki patted his back to give some sort of little comfort, however useless that is, before forcing himself to pick up his own chopsticks.
Whenever Shokudaikiri took charge in kitchen as the citadel's resident head chef -which was almost always, their meals would be guaranteed to taste heavenly. His tongue registered the perfect umami seeping from Shokudaikiri's agedashi tofu, but Mikazuki still felt like swallowing a piece of styrofoam. Still, he forced himself to finish the light dinner bit by bit, paying no mind to the absence of noises usually accompanying hundreds of touken danshi in one dining hall, for once the entire venue was almost silent.
Mikazuki picked the last green onion in his soup before putting down his chopsticks. When he subtly glanced around, he noticed that majority of the tsukumogamis have long finished their own dinner, yet nobody stood up nor exited the dining hall. Some sat still, staring on their mostly empty bowls in daze. Others guzzled bottles of alcoholic drinks, with Jiroutachi letting out a mighty burp. Still, no one scolded him, nor said anything.
The stillness somehow suffocates him, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears once more. Mikazuki swallowed dryly, trying to hold back from shedding more tears. He instead turned to his still untouched tea and once again sank into deep contemplation, reluctant to break the silence, yet feeling something is in verge of exploding.
A quiet cough, Hasebe finally stood up, glancing around the entire hall. He gave a subtle nod to Mikazuki before speaking, "...now that all of us are here. We should move to the assembly hall and wait for Konnosuke. Don't forget to bring your utensils to the kitchen so those who are in duty can wash it."
Ah, yes. He almost forgot about Master's little sidekick. Now that Hasebe mentioned it, he didn't see the fox since he's awake. Mikazuki turned to Kogitsunemaru, who sensed his subtle confusion and readily explained, "Konnosuke was called by the Time Government about four days ago. We predicted that he will be back today."
Mikazuki hummed, sinking back into his own thoughts.
With Lady Guren's death, their citadel is once again without a leader. This isn't a new occurrence, they've been in this situation thrice already, and most of the veteran swords already knew what to do to keep things afloat. Sorties and expeditions still went on smoothly, and Konnosuke was gracious enough to run back and forth from their citadel to the Time Government as their sole connector to the real world. Mikazuki didn't mean to sound arrogant, but he thought that they served their purpose much more efficiently without the interference of a Saniwa.
But she's different. Lady Guren is drastically different than the incompetent Saniwas Mikazuki was forced to serve. He didn't know if the others shared his own viewpoint, but the Tenka Goken saw how all the swords felt much more comfortable and sure in their straits, grins and laughter that was once absent in their citadel filled every nook and cranny during her time as their master. Uptight swords loosen their shoulders and even allowed themselves to relax more, the young ones regained their cheerfulness and childish frivolity. Sorties and expeditions went much more smoothly with her guidance and ingenious strategies. All thanks to their intelligent, protective, ever gentle master. The amount of humans he served as a touken danshi can be counted with just one hand, but Mikazuki can confidently say that she's the best Saniwa he ever met and had the luck to serve.
Now that she's truly gone, a veil seems to envelop them all, bearing its invisible weight on all of them. The general atmosphere surrounding the citadel now felt like when they're still processing the aftermath of their rebellion to the second Saniwa. Back then, all of them were trembling with fright, afraid that their sin of pointing their sword against someone they're supposed to risk their lives for would no doubt be exposed. Along with fright, relief was also felt by most of them. At least, even if their crime was discovered, they no longer have to call a tyrant their master. Same thing went by when they disposed the third one, where most of them already felt numb and hatred from the Saniwa's debauchery forced upon them.
The suffocating feeling seems different right now though. There's still fright, but Mikazuki didn't feel afraid from the impending interrogations they'll surely undergo from the government. Certainly not relief, if him trying to choke back his grievance wasn't enough evidence already.
It is when they're all seated in the hall, when the Sanjou saw Gokotai wetting his tigers' fur with tears, gritted teeth and clenched hands from Doudanuki, despondent stares and absent-minded caresses from Akashi and Souza to their respective red-eyed wards, that Mikazuki realized this feeling.
Guilt. Guilt of questioning their Master's intention, guilt of not trying to help or talk to her more, guilt of assuming she's going to discard them so easily when her goal is always to protect them, guilt of letting her die a martyr while they stood around helpless.
Under the tense silence awaiting Konnosuke's arrival, Mikazuki hunched over, covering his face while quiet sobs racked over him, ignoring the ache coming from his knees. The warm hand on his back did nothing to alleviate the crushing feeling of regret weighing down his heart.
Several things happened after that. Konnosuke did arrive back to their citadel past midnight, when most swords fought valiantly to keep their eyes from drooping. A few directives from the government, still unhelpful and repetitive as always, read aloud by the fox's slightly trembling voices. Mikazuki fought to keep himself from running towards the door, to storm the government themselves when Konnosuke announced that Master's funeral will be private and closed-casket. There are some token protests here and there regarding this decision, Mikazuki even saw some swords already stood up, no doubt to demand Master's body from the Time Government, if it not for either their partner or brothers insistent hands, pulling down the brash swords.
A pity. Mikazuki would gladly join them, consequences be damned. He couldn't even pay respect for the last time to her personally. What a cruel joke the government sprung on them.
Konnosuke never shows any sign of heavy grief nor any sorrow spilling down into salty tears, but he stared at each and every mute touken danshi with something akin to emptiness and exhaustion.
Instructions from the Time Government are mostly the same as before. No one is allowed to go out from the citadel unless in extreme emergencies, in about two days some officers will come to the citadel and question the tsukumogamis, particularly those who were closest to Master. Unlike the first time, Mikazuki no longer felt nervous, only slight annoyance that their mourning will be interrupted by scrutiny and suspicions.
This was usually the time where they discuss about the alibis and excuses they have to prepare, so that no discrepancy when said officers questioned would be uttered. Now that they're not the ones who have raised their sword against their lady, and will never intend to, they found themselves at loss over what should they divulge. Not from fear of being persecuted, but from the sheer cluelessness and mass confusion.
Which then brought the question on the prevalent thing that has been running amok inside their mind after her death. What happened?
"I remember that she's injured during the first invasion, but what could possibly incapacitate her so, to the point that she suddenly fell like that...?"
"They talked before, didn't they? Master and that damn revisionist..."
"What did they say?"
"How would I know?! If only Master's barrier allowed us to also listen..."
Clamors arose around him, irritation coloring every single argument surrounding Mikazuki. The Tenka Goken only closed his eyes, feeling both tired and annoyed for no reason. While before Kogitsunemaru's hand patting his back gave him reassurance, now it only serves to make him upset. The cacophony inside the assembly hall didn't help the increasing throbs in his head.
Gods above, he felt tired. Mikazuki wished to sleep and never wake up again.
Perhaps he could meet Master in his dreams, and tell her how sorry he is. For not being a good warrior. For not being a better lover.
Still, his superior hearing couldn't help but pick up a low voice in the corner of the room. A questioning tone, to one touken danshi that Mikazuki somehow forgot might have an inkling of what's going on.
"...you talked with Master, right sensei?" Hizen stared at his fellow Tosa sword, dead eyes scrutinizing the now frozen uchigatana, "you know something, so why do you keep being quiet...?"
Oh. Yes, right. From all of them, Chouson might be the last touken danshi that had the privilege to see and talk with Master privately, face-to-face. Perhaps, he too, was the last warrior to whom Lady Guren confided in about her pain and misery during her last days. Mikazuki pretended the clog in his throat was from leftover grief, and not jealousy.
Apparently Hizen's voice isn't as quiet as he intended to be, because those near the two of them snapped their heads, zeroing towards Chouson. Takechi Hanpeita's priced sword still didn't speak, the only sign that he's uncomfortable from all of the attention is some fiddling with his glasses.
His continued silence only served to boil Mikazuki's anger though. For a second, he imagined storming over to the younger uchigatana, shaking and yelling at him until he spilled everything he knew.
Did he even realize that keeping mum about all of these had led to Master's demise...?
"Sensei, ya' actually know what's goin' on...?" Mutsunokami didn't have the same reservation as the other two quieter Tosa swords, so his voice projected inside the hall, rendering the remaining squabbling touken danshi to cease their arguments and focus on all three of them, "then... why? Why didn't ya' tell us...?"
There's absence of cheer in the usually boisterous sword's words, desperation coloring each syllables. Since his voice is not as quiet as Hizen's, it grabbed the attention of more than half of the tsukumogamis, those who are less perceptive were spurred to go silent upon seeing their other comrades staring at Chouson, expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief, and in some cases, mounting rage.
Even men less intelligent than Chouson knew that there's no escaping once you have the attention of hundreds of trained warriors, so after a moment of tense silence, the bespectacled uchigatana heaved a weary sigh. In it contains multitude of feelings. Exhaustion, sorrow, pain, resignation.
So, he finally, finally, opened his mouth, and out comes the horrific truth, about what deadly transaction had transpired between Master and the revisionists, how she endured days of pain trying to design a counter seal, and how she asked him to keep his mouth shut about what ails her during the last days before her death.
Mikazuki wanted to puke. He's supposed to be her partner, the closest to her. He's supposed to trust her. And what did he do?
The whole time she was in pain and no doubt despair over her looming death, the time she no doubt still used to do everything she can to ensure their safety, he spent his time blissfully unaware over her sacrifice, and repeatedly questioned her motives.
Kogitsunemaru was snarling besides him. Is he snarling at Mikazuki, for being such a treacherous, ungrateful touken danshi, one that possibly has the least faith towards his own kind Master? One that not only failed to protect her, but also unqualified to even be called her lover? Mikazuki sure felt like his heart is being stabbed over and over again, Chouson's harrowing tale of their Lady's condition and her noble sacrifice mocking him and his foolishness. How dare he, to sit here so leisurely and be the one who survives?
Perhaps his brother knew that it should have been Mikazuki, and not Master, who perished that day. The other tachi must have sensed his thoughts, the doubt he felt towards Lady Guren. He understands. Mikazuki understands. Had it been him in Kogitsunemaru's position, he too will feel ashamed over having someone so foolish and so ungrateful to be part of his family.
He couldn't breath. Mikazuki felt so, so dirty, so sinful, what are you doing here, enjoying a life that should have been rightfully hers, useless and selfish-
Warm hands grabbed his, pulling Mikazuki back from his own spiraling mind. Crescent moon met a pool of clear, purple eyes, and even though there's a storm brewing there, Ishikirimaru's shaking smile towards him managed to anchor him back to the land of living. Only then did he register a cacophony of voices, accusations and fury hurled around the hall.
Mikazuki flinched, expecting those angry words to be targeted towards him, but before he could scoot back from the chaos, Ishikirimaru steadily continued to hold his hand, with his other hand stabilizing his trembling body.
"Mikazuki, it's fine," Ishikirimaru's voice is, as always, calm and soothing, even though Mikazuki could see just how much the ootachi tried to suppress his hoarse voice filled with emotion, "just... take a deep breath, alright?"
If possible, Mikazuki wanted to close his eyes and cease his breathing, preferably forever. A touken danshi who couldn't even lift a finger to shield his own Master from danger is useless. Perhaps his fate of being a mere treasure sword is more fitting for him. If he was in his sword form, unmoving and unalive, maybe he could still be used somehow. Lady Guren is very proficient in sword arts too, and were he to be wielded by her in his true form... no, if only all of them are in theirs too, perhaps she won't be so concerned in trying to protect them all, and would surely disposed all enemies there easily.
Surely it's not the revisionists who caused their master's death, but the fault lies entirely on them, who have too less faith and too less care for her. Why did they blindly followed her orders to not let them see her in that remaining week? Even when they saw how she had always come to their aid during sorties, when they saw her personally bandaging their wounds, when they saw her bleeding half of her life away just to save one touken danshi? Why are they so quick to deduce that she will be a turncoat, just like the other Saniwas, when her life was threatened?
Mikazuki had seen that she herself did not cherish her own life. Why did he so easily let go of her, so certain that she truly didn't need him? Lady Guren endured the pain and fear of dying while still trying to revise strategy, one that guaranteed victory and their lives, but not hers. And he. Let. Her.
Furious shouts were registered dimly by him, almost as if all of those voices were far away. Yet he could still recognize numerous accusations, disappointment bleeding through hurtful words, all targeted to the stock still uchigatana, head lowered and lights reflected on his glasses. A sinner, in the eyes of most touken danshi here, one which his silence over these crucial things that could have been easily prevented, had he deigned to open his mouth.
"How could you?!" Houchou cried again, voice laden with betrayal, "w-why didn't you tell us?! We could have helped Master if we knew!"
How could he, indeed. He felt his anger rising alongside the cacophony of enraged voices. Ishikirimaru's attempts to sooth him by patting his shoulder didn't help one bit. In fact, he actually felt indignant that there's still someone who could remain calm upon the reveal that one of his comrade might be part of the reason she's no longer here with them right now.
"...what could I do?" Chouson might not be shouting, but his voice certainly feels like it's thundering inside the hall, rendering most of them speechless at the sheer emptiness those words contained within.
And for the first time, all of them witnessed the ever unflappable uchigatana broke down. Tears streamed down, he hunched over, covering his face, a mockery of a sinner trying to cover his transgressions. He didn't even flinch when his glasses clattered duly against the floor.
"I've spent days, however short it is, scouring over every book, every historical records, even the fictional tales that defies any logic," Chouson dragged weary hand across his face, voice trembling in some unknown repressed emotions, "I searched for every way to help her. At the very least, a loophole in the seal, one that could guarantee her survival."
He chuckled, but it's hollow, almost bordering madness, "...yet I found nothing. Nothing that could save her. If there are no records, no clue for us, what can we possibly do?"
The sheer helplessness from that statement, hit Mikazuki hard, almost as if it's a physical blow that left him staggering. All of his anger dissipated, leaving nothing but void in his heart. Because, loath as he is to admit it, Nankaitarou Chouson was right in the fact that there's nothing they could actually do to prevent Master's loss of life.
None of them here had adequate knowledge about seals. Perhaps only a handful of them, the closest one towards Master knew a thing or two about simple seals. And even then, those were seals that aren't used for combats, mainly for support and storing things they got from their excursions. Nothing complex like the revisionists' seal, nor Master's countering one.
Because why would they? They're swords, their main strength lies in the cold steel of their blades. Why should they learn something else, that doesn't have anything to do with martial and sword arts? Let Master do the seals, because she's the most knowledgeable about them, one which power was ten times stronger than even their strongest spiritual sword. Let the touken danshi be her vanguard, vanquishing any enemies seeking bodily harm to her.
This negligence, this ignorance, is what ultimately cost them her life. Mikazuki felt faint, and he would have surely crumbled were it not for Ishikirimaru and Iwatooshi's concerned hands steadying him.
"...you could have told us," a low voice from the Shinsengumi swords, Nagasone spoke with furrowed eyebrows, "even if there's really... nothing we could do... at least we could accompany her."
"And betray her trust to me, when she had specifically requested for me to not speak anything about that seal?"
"That still doesn't excuse what you did!" Yamatonokami is the one who shouted right now, grieving and enraged eyes zeroing to Chouson, "t-there must be something! If you had talked with us, we could have helped search another book. Thesis, papers, whatever it is! There are also swords formerly from government, they can also help! Isn't that right?!"
"That's..."
"Why did you keep being quiet then? Why did you gave up so easily?! We can keep this a secret from Master, and we would have a lot of options if you just told us all of this! T-then, Master... she won't be..."
All of this blaming, accusations hurled upon each other, not even one of them verbally acknowledged their own fault. Mikazuki is frankly exhausted, all of his energy sapped out.
"Enough."
Finally, all voices quietened down, the touken danshi's attention were stolen by him. Mikazuki didn't care anymore, he wanted to yell, to scream at them, however what came out of his mouth was a pathetic voice barely above whisper.
"...enough," the tachi swallowed wetly, but still couldn't prevent a choked sob forcing out of his throat, "just... stop. It won't bring her back. Nothing will."
Why can't they see that this is all their fault? Why must they insist that the fault lies on either the enemies or just one of them? They all took Master's love to them for granted, and thus they didn't even think to try harder. She had given so much for them, a comfortable shelter, warm and nutritious food, happiness that they seldom feel during the previous Saniwas' reigns. Yet it only took one deception, one intended to divert them from harm, and look how they repaid her.
All of them are so very ungrateful.
Mikazuki felt the air inside the hall constricting him, and he knew that if he continued to stay here, he wouldn't be able to resist hitting somebody. Ignoring the startled noise from Ishikirimaru, Mikazuki stood abruptly, trying to stand strong even when he felt his legs wobble and his vision dimmed on the edges. He needed to get out from here.
"Mikazuki, wait!" Mikazuki brushed aside Kogitsunemaru's stretched hand, "where are you going?"
The Tenka Goken didn't deign to give his brother any answer, marching out of the hall. If he shut the door harder than usual that the wood rattled, Mikazuki pretended it's not a failed attempt in trying to release his agitation.
He stomped around the corridors without any direction, the only sound accompanying Mikazuki were just harsh pants and quiet sobs from him. Even though he didn't have any particular place to go to, his feet still automatically steered towards the familiar house near the citadel area's outskirts.
The tachi, in a moment of clumsiness, stumbled and almost tripped over uneven rocks during his trek towards Master's quarters, but Mikazuki miraculously made it without falling flat on his face. Upon reaching the entrance, however, his hand paused when he went to open the door.
Because how dare he, the one no longer worthy to set foot near her quarters, be so brazen to expect himself still allowed to enter her abode? He had so gladly left her alone back then, so easily accepting his beloved's refusal to let him inside. He had heard her painful sobs, and yet in a moment of pettiness and leftover prejudice, he ignored it, going back to his warm and comfortable room while she endured all of her misery.
He gave her no comfort, so it's preposterous of him to expect the familiar house to give him any. The previously warm and lively house is now cold and silent, looming over him, as if it's also judging him for his sin of abandoning its owner to her death. The forest surrounding her quarters too are quiet and still, as if trying to alienate him, to let him know that even though Master is not here, he's no longer welcomed.
Despite Mikazuki feeling disgusted of himself, he couldn't help but crumbled down the wooden patio, forehead throbbing duly over the harsh impact, but too full of despair to care. Without anyone to support nor giving him any warm reassurance, the Tenka Goken stayed in his mock dogeza position, sobbing and begging silently for redemption that will never come from the intended.
"My lotus... I-I'm sorry, I'm s-so truly sorry. I should have... should have..."
He himself didn't even know what he's babbling about anymore, but he continued to throw hundreds of apology until he felt his consciousness left him.
Come morning, Mikazuki found himself in his own futon again, surrounded by his brothers. Imanotsurugi was sprawled on top of him, with Ishikirimaru and Iwatooshi hugging him from his sides. Kogitsunemaru is the only one awake, sitting vigilantly nearby, the tachi only nodded and gave him another small smile in greeting. His entire body once again felt sore, his eyes were puffy, but nothing could beat the dull pain in both his throat and chest.
Amongst the warmth of his brothers, Mikazuki clutched the blue haori given by Master, feeling the ache in his heart breaking him apart.
He didn't deserve this. This safety and comfort. It should have been hers.
Nobody begrudged him for his last night's meltdown, but several glances of sympathy and pity were thrown, and Mikazuki resisted the urge to claw their faces off. He felt miserable, yes, but he has his own pride as touken danshi, and pity was never an emotion that helps anything nor anybody.
As expected, all sorties and expeditions were halted, their time devices were sealed by the officers during the first day after Master's death, thus no one truly has anything to do. Some swords who were not sorted into duties spent their time sparring aggresively, an attempt to stave off their restlessness. A lot of them are still trapped within cloak of melancholy, some sitting around and staring at nothing. Mikazuki saw the usually lively Namazuo brushed Takadateguro's mane robotically, despite the horse's hair already looking clean and sleek.
Only a few of them actually tried to do something productive, like when Yamanbagiri Kunihiro approached him after the end of lunch.
"...Honka and I are planning to go over Master's archives," curt as always, if Mikazuki didn't see the uchigatana's haunted eyes and crescent marks left inside his palm, he would have thought Kunihiro to be wholly unaffected, "you're the closest to Master, so maybe... well, m-maybe you can help."
Swallowing the bitter feeling of being dubbed Master's closest confidant, as true and unworthy of that title as he is, Mikazuki forced himself to smile and agreed, "it has been a long time since we tidy up Master's documents, indeed. My memory sometimes fails me, so please don't hold any grudge against me if this old man's hindering you later."
Kunihiro shook his head exasperatedly, but didn't comment any further. Frankly, Mikazuki only tried to chase away the younger sword's melancholy, just for a little while, so seeing that his feeble attempt to jest about his age was successful to spring other emotion beside sadness, it still made him feel relieved.
Mikazuki still felt a minute shiver, a moment of hesitation when they approached the small bridge nearby Master's quarters. He's immensely thankful that Kunihiro didn't comment on his sudden stop upon seeing the familiar building. The uchigatana only glanced at him, but there are no hints of pity in the sea-green eyes. Honestly, it's refreshing, to still have someone who didn't treat him like he's as fragile as a glass.
"...let's go in. Honka should be here already."
The tachi swallowed down every guilt bubbling over him, before stepping inside the building's guest room.
Nothing really changed inside. The teapot she often used when receiving her guests still remained untouched and pristine, a plastic Lego-built flowers still in its vase besides the teapot. A gift from the Awataguchis, cherished and appreciated as always by her whenever her touken danshi gave her any kind of presents, however useless or tacky they are. Some area inside her house were dusty, product of being left alone for few days, but there are signs of some surfaces and floor being wiped clean. Mikazuki spied the lamp nearby the door sporting some dust bunnies, but the floor under said lamp was mopped clean. A contradictory sight, one that somehow brought a small smile.
Someone might have tried to clean Master's house, but it's clear the sword who did so might be in a hurry, or just simply inexperienced.
He's getting sidetracked again. Mikazuki threw an apologetic smile to the still waiting Kunihiro, following the blond uchigatana inside her office.
Lady Guren's office can be considered organized, but the paperwork left from the previous Saniwas' reigns left the room a little bit cramped. She had done a wonderful job in trying to record everything digitally, but ten years of neglected paperwork can't be beaten by just a three years service. Coupled by her other responsibilities, alongside her free time spent with the tsukumogamis, there's still quite a lot to do.
Entering her office sent Mikazuki into a nostalgia train. How he remembered her sitting on her desk, or on the patio at the back of her office. How her office always smell faintly like an incense, how they spent hours chatting late at night instead of continuing the paperwork, both of them distracted by each other's presence. He swallowed any bitter melancholy inside, trying to focus on what can he do here. Dwelling on the past was never productive, and not to mention, meaningless after all.
The other occupants in the room are scouring over the numerous files and papers, and while Ichimonji Norimune spared them a smile and jaunty wave, Yamanbagiri Chougi strode over to them with annoyed look. Or precisely, his annoyance was only directed towards his replica.
"You're late, Fake-kun."
A sigh, "how many times do I have to tell you that's not my name."
"I'll call you however I please."
Mikazuki left the bickering duo alone, going over the files Norimune was checking, "quite a lot of papers you have there, Ichimonji Norimune. Is there anything I can do to help lessen your burden?"
"I might be retired, but I can still bear to work on one or two reports," the other tachi chortled, before handing Mikazuki a stack of unclipped papers, "but I do appreciate some assistance. Would it be impudent of me to request your help regarding these reports? Those are expedition reports during our good third lord's service, and as you know, they're all quite jumbled."
"Of course not. I will refer to the results in our old accounting book then."
They worked in silence after that. Mostly silent, given that both Yamanbagiris are still engrossed with their quarrel, Chougi's one-sided aggressive tone accompanied by the quiet and deadpan snark from his Kunihiro counterpart.
Even though their interaction to other people can sound very antagonistic, Mikazuki observed them from the corner of his eyes. Vitriolic as they are, no one could refute over their closeness, how Chougi, while spouting degradations over Kunihiro's intelligence, still let his replica lean on his shoulder. Kunihiro himself seems content to just let the other uchigatana hurled insults to him, only deflecting occasionally while discreetly flashing an amused smile upon seeing the silver-haired sword fume after Kunihiro rendered him speechless from timely sarcastic response. To outsiders, their dynamic seems confusing, yet Mikazuki, who knew their true relationship, couldn't help but feeling bitter.
All of them are safe, and their respective partners are also alive and well. It's a little bit unfair that Mikazuki is the only one here who had to mourn for the loss of his master and lover at the same time.
It seems that his souring mood was so obvious to Norimune, the fellow tachi even nudged him, "you look exhausted, Mikazuki. Perhaps you will feel more energized with a cup of tea. It would be inconvenient if you were unfocused while checking over these documents, no?"
Mikazuki appreciated Norimune's attempt to distract him, but he found himself freezing anyway when he took the offered tea from the other sword.
This smell... "...gyokuro?"
"Yes," Norimune smiled, wistfulness coloring his upturned lips, "nothing but the best batch for Master's beloved. She kept your favorite drink separately from other stash, I can see that you are her most cherished."
Ah. Mikazuki didn't know whether the former Ichimonji leader is trying to be considerate or cruel. Smelling the fresh scent from the undoubtedly high-quality tea, Mikazuki's mind somehow got thrusted back to memories when they spent their time with each other, talking about nothing and everything. How, in this very office, they worked in silence, heads hunched over to each other scouring endless reports, accompanied by this very same gyokuro.
All of the intimacies they shared, the kisses and hugs they exchanged, came surging over his mind, and Mikazuki involuntarily choked from the overwhelming emotion. It's honestly pathetic, he thought while trying to suppress his sobs, that a mere tea could take him off guard like this.
What's the use of melancholy, of memories so far yet so near in time, when nothing could ever bring her back?
Mikazuki misses her. A mere days without her presence, yet his heart still yearns for someone that is no longer among the living world.
Someone was patting his shoulder, and he realized that during his brief meltdown, the room has gone completely silent. The silence was broken by a small voice from Kunihiro, "... I miss her too."
So he said that out loud. Mikazuki lifted his head to see Kunihiro pulling down his cloak, trying in vain to hide tears running down his face. Unlike his partner, Chougi didn't cry nor offer any consoling words, but his clenched fists and eyes blazing with frustration indicated that he's not unaffected by this entire situation. Norimune himself already lost his smile, falling into dour silence besides Mikazuki.
Chougi then slapped Kunihiro's back, gritted teeth holding back his own wrath, "stop crying, you fools! Where's your pride as touken danshi? She's not going to rise from dead just because you're all bawling!"
Mikazuki pretended to not hear the tremble in his usual stern voice, and he certainly didn't see how the uchigatana turned away, huffing out a wet shuddery breath.
All of them also collectively ignored his quiet cursing, lamenting Master's death and their failure to recognize her sacrifice until it's too late.
In the end, it's Norimune who suggested for them to adjourn and collect themselves until they managed to reign their rampant emotions.
"We still have to remember our role here," he said, much more gravely than his usual easygoing tone, "we will shame her if we do shoddy jobs to prepare for a new Saniwa."
Mikazuki had to stop himself from bristling at that, but he must have done terribly in concealing his outward reaction, since Norimune had to lift both hands, trying to placate him, "Mikazuki, I hate that idea as much as you do, but the whims of Time Government isn't something that we are allowed to oppose. You know that very well."
Some rational part of Mikazuki knew that what Norimune said was right. But it still couldn't stop him from being irritated.
And now, here he is, sulking at the veranda nearby his room. Uguisumaru and Juzumaru -his usual company during tea time, were unlucky enough to find him in this kind of miserable state, and also bear the misfortune to hear the Tenka Goken lamenting over the impending new Saniwa assigned to their citadel.
Uguisumaru lightly chuckled after he finished his rant, "I didn't expect you to share the same opinion as Ookanehira. He will get annoyed if I told him this."
"I'm sure that it's not only me and Ookanehira who have some... reservations, regarding a new Saniwa," Mikazuki sullenly pointed out. And this is not just him childishly trying to justify his own emotion, since he did saw some of the swords were still trying to cope from the loss of their master. Their not-so-stellar experience serving a Saniwa before meeting Lady Guren too, can be another factor on how most of them might be reluctant to accept a new leader so soon.
Call him biased, but Mikazuki thought that none hold a candle to Lady Guren in terms of wisdom and strength needed as a commander in this war.
"...you might be right," Uguisumaru acquiesced, mirth dimming slightly, "Hirano had expressed some concern about serving a new Saniwa too."
Juzumaru pinched his beads, his usual serene expression carrying some gloom, "the bond we share with Master is not something easy to dismiss. Alas, as a sword, we are required to continue preserving for her."
Mikazuki knew that. Touken danshi like them, tsukumogamis who were bound to the will of mortals, they have no right nor freedom to choose who they wanted to serve. Still...
"Can't we be let off for some time? I remember that we've experienced a year without the guidance of a Saniwa, and I think we're doing just fine."
"I'm afraid this time, the government won't be that magnanimous, Mikazuki," Uguisumaru shook his head, "Master had been the fourth Saniwa who perished during her tenure in our citadel. There's bound to be some added suspicions, and I have no doubt they'll scrutinize us even more."
Yes, but Lady Guren is the only Saniwa who didn't deserve death nor harm coming upon her, Mikazuki thought bitterly. The Kobizen tachi must have sensed his petulant musing, for the other only gave him another exasperated smile.
"Remember that there will be some government officials who are coming tomorrow," he reminded Mikazuki kindly, "maybe try to control your emotion a little bit? If you are in need of distraction, both Juzumaru and I can provide some tea or entertainment for you."
"One should become the master of one's mind rather than let one's mind master him, is what my former master believes in," Juzumaru nodded, "if you were to drown too deep in your sorrow, it will prevent you in having clear conscience and sound judgment. She... has departed, but she left us her faith that we will continue to move forward."
Somehow, what Juzumaru said is the thing that finally made Mikazuki stop wallowing and think clearly.
Mikazuki might never stop grieving, never will he forget the moment of her death, but it's true that she wouldn't want this. For her warriors to forget their own purpose, their role in this war. Her sacrifice, tragic as it is, was a decision she made to make sure they all will be safe, and not to bring them prolonged despair. Surely... even if Mikazuki didn't want to believe it, surely she would have wanted them to move on.
He remembered that she loathed it whenever one of her boys were upset, always trying her best to listen and guide them when they encountered any problems. How guilty would she felt, if she saw that they all remained devastated, unable to function properly after her demise? She would blame herself, no doubt.
For her, he must move on, but her memory will forever be with him, and the rest of his comrades.
Mikazuki finally smiled, a real one for the first time in few days, and remarked leisurely, "I won't accept anything less than some fine tea, then."
It's a start, and it isn't easy to move on so soon, but for her, he will try.
Konnosuke is bound to be back soon, along with numerous government officials for their usual interrogations. Another round of questioning and baits thrown around, trying to see whether they're actually the ones who commit a grave sin in killing their own master. They shouldn't have gotten used to this kind of situation, but for them, formerly objects created to shed blood and take lives, it's a fitting karma for them to be in constant suspicion of a mortal's death, Mikazuki supposed.
Not good. He shook his head to clear his mind. He had vowed to dispel any dark thoughts for her, so Mikazuki chased away any morbid musings left, and focused once more on the remaining active time device bound for the Time Government-related travels only.
"You don't have to force yourself, Mikazuki," Kogitsunemaru's tone is still so gentle, no doubt after witnessing his meltdown two days ago, "we can just leave the former government swords to welcome the officials."
If before, Kogitsunemaru's attempt to shield him from any potential emotional damage annoyed him, now there's only acceptance and understanding that he felt. His brother might still have some pity, but Mikazuki knew that it's because the other tachi is just worried about him.
"They no doubt will find out about my relationship with Master, and thus, I would be among the first who they will question. Might as well save my strength instead of going back and forth from my room when they call me later," Mikazuki lightly patted his fellow Sanjou's shoulder, "but I thank you for your concern."
Kogitsunemaru seems to sense his now light mood, for he relented with a small, but relieved smile, "...if you say so."
Together, along with the other swords, some waiting with trepidation, others with restlessness or resignation, they watched the time device light up, signaling an impending arrival from the other side.
Mikazuki inhaled, praying for strength and steadfast mind, and pretended that the warmth he felt in his heart is from Lady Guren giving him her encouragement, wherever she is right now.