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“Another Nakigitsune? Seriously? Do you have something for him?”
The Swordsmith shifted uncomfortably. He could of course hear the disappointment and anger in his Saniwa's voice.
In his beloved Saniwa's voice.
He couldn't blame Saniwa. Of course not. He could never blame Saniwa for anything to begin with, because Saniwa was perfect and beautiful and everything he couldn't be and everything he loved. And he certainly could not blame Saniwa for being disappointed and angry at getting another Nakigitsune (probably the fiftieth or so) despite having put in 999/999/999/999 in resources.
Especially because it was Nakigitsune. God, that fox's voice is annoying.
But Nakigitsune was always the easiest to craft and he wasn't the most skilled so he --
Well that's a lie.
Glancing back at the materials behind him, the Swordsmith thought on how really, it wouldn't be that hard to make Mikazuki Munechika or Kogitsunemaru. In fact, he had made them before – repeatedly even – for some other Saniwas. He visualised him working on it. He visualised the swords appearing.
He visualised Saniwa's smile – beautiful, beautiful smile as Mikazuki or Kogitsunemaru greeted Saniwa. Greeted his Saniwa.
The Swordsmith would fall further in love.
And Saniwa would never notice.
And Saniwa would never come back, at least, not until new swords are made available for crafting.
The Swordsmith wasn't sure if he could live with that. His heart hurts just thinking about being in his workshop alone without Saniwa coming to visit him everyday. Three times a day, even.
“Maybe next time,” he told Saniwa with an apologetic smile. He was getting good at showing apologetic smiles.
“Next time,” Saniwa sighed and nodded, turning to leave to go expore a map in hope rare swords would drop.
The Swordsmith always looked forward to the next time.