Reflection and Deeper Connections

                                    

                                          

I sit outside my home, sake in hand, staring at the clouds drifting by slowly.

"Y/N," a low voice said. I turned around with my same defeated eyes to look at the source of the voice. long black hair with red tips, and that face stared back at me.

"Michika-! No, it's you, Yoriichi." My voice had a spark of excitement before being drowned out by the realisation.

"You don't seem happy to see me." Yoriichi spoke as he sat himself next to me.

"I am. It's just."

"You mistook me for him, I know. Every time I see myself on a reflective surface, I think the same thing." Yoriichi's words sound deflated.

"Yoriichi, I am so sorry." I stumbled those words out of my mouth. I looked up to see into his usually empty eyes, only to be met with tears streaming down his face.

"Y/N, it's not your fault; you noticed his feelings and tried your best. I couldn't even see his resentment myself."

"But I knew I could have done something. I always knew."

Before I knew it, we were embracing as tears ran down our faces. The cycle of blaming ourselves and reassessing each other continued for a while. As our tears dried up, we soon calmed down and just stared at the clouds drifting by.

Time passed as we sat wordlessly, drink in hand, attempting to soothe our sorrows. until our alcohol was confiscated by Fumihito.

"That's enough alcohol today; it's still morning. Here, I've made you tea," he said, kissing me on the cheek and placing the sencha-filled cups between us along with Onigiri.

"Thank you. Come sit with us." Yoriichi spoke, giving one of his rare smiles towards Fumihito.

"Ah! Thank you." Fumihito replies before sitting down next to me. "So..."

"Yoriichi, what do you think Fumihito does?"

"Wha! What kind of question is that?" Fumihito exclaims. 

"Hmmm. I never thought of it. I'm aware that he works within the corps. Maybe cook?"

"That's what I thought as well. Or doctor."

"I'm neither," Fumihito flatly denies.

Both Yoriichi and I just turn to him and tilt our heads like curious puppies.
"Personally, you can't blame us; you give us no indication of what you actually do."

"Are you a strategist or something?" Yoriichi asks, his curiosity apparent in his eyes.

"I'm... uh... a swordsmith."

"You're a what!" Yoriichi slightly raises his voice in shock.

"Well yeah... like, who do you think made the Yoriichi Type Zero?"

"You made WHAT!" I actually shouted this time. The fear in my eyes is actually apparent. It turns out that the man I've been married to created that horrible monstrosity.

"You didn't know, Y/N!"

"No, I didn't! I need compensation for the emotional trauma that machine caused." I said this as I felt a shudder run up my spine.

"Y/N, you've fought me before," Yoriichi states, as if those are remotely the same thing.

"Those aren't even remotely the same thing, Yori! The metal construction is weaker than you, when I first fought it, I almost died. Fighting you, I... well expect to die with every slash." I tried to explain, but it seems that I was failing miserably.