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“This child will ruin us.” Ei held the baby close to her chest, her knuckles turned white with how she gripped its tiny wrist, “You can’t possibly ask this of me.”
The palace was quiet, impossibly still, despite the sour taste of Styx still lingering on their tongues. The somber croak of a raven reverberated through the empty halls.
“Do not forget, this is her child.” The kitsune sighed, brushing away a stray tear with her thumb. Her makeup had long smudged across her puffy cheeks, the dulled pinks drew lines down her face, like scars.
Grief existed in the spaces where grief should not; In the pits of her belly, in the stirring of her liver, in the cough ruminating in her lungs.
“Makoto gave her life for him.” She murmured, her voice crackling.
“No. He stole her from us.” Ei narrowed her eyes, “She is dead because he exists.”
Miko’s throat seized as she choked out a quiet sob, even she could no longer defend this child.
Raiden Makoto had been so elated during her pregnancy, so joyous and full with motherly love for her unborn.
Despite being an archon, Raiden Makoto was a little more human than both of them combined.
Ei struggled deeply to understand how someone could pour their entire soul, blood and energy into someone who knew none of her sacrifice.
They loved her, adored her, and she was put to waste by an ungrateful byproduct of her adoration.
“She hadn’t lived long enough to name him.” The familiar whispered.
The electro archon put a hand up to the window and peered out into the storms of Inazuman sky. Makoto’s grave was being dug out in the flooding storms, the workers looked miserable out in the torrent.
Their shovels drove into the dirt like ticks gripping into an animal’s skin.
“Kunikuzushi.” The goddess breathed, “That shall be his name.”
“You’re not killing him?” The fox asked with no hesitation in her voice.
“No, I can’t bear to do that either.”
Out in the barren yard, the workers lowered her coffin, built prettily with bamboo and coloured with violet grass. The trees had no leaves to speak of, and the flowers shriveled a millennia ago.
‘Yes,’ She thought, ‘A garden would be marvelous.’
“Country destroyer." The fox giggled, though her laughter held no joy, “How fitting.”
Kunikuzushi lived inside of a metal cage.
His personal chambers were small, quaint if you will.
Shelves stocked full of empty glass bottles lined the walls (he’d sooner have to replenish his old herbs) and there was a tiny window to the east which held the grandest view of the palace gardens.
It wasn’t particularly large, not nearly as luxurious enough to fit even a few decorations here and there, but nor was it so small that his arms could reach both walls from the center.
Sitting right in the middle was his cage.
Its framework was thick, heavy and slender, each steel beam curved up and joined at the apex.
The cage itself was cold and bare, but not rusted and he maintained its general cleanliness.
During the winter, the frosted air flew in through the window and the snow chilled the metal to the point of first contact frostbite if you were not careful. He’d shiver all throughout the night, the temperatures were harsh on his growing body, he was often very sickly as a result.
Some nights, when Auntie Ei deemed him to be especially horrid, she would shackle him to the floor of the cage and he’d sleep, upright, with his hands poised at grotesque angles as he leant his head between the bars.
- And when they’d free him in the morning, his wrists were almost always inflamed, red and angry. It was like a branding iron had been run, all around the frail joint.
“You are hidden here.” Auntie Ei said to him when he scrounged up the bravery to ask, “In this place, you are nothing more than an object of interest. Objects do not sleep in beds made for people, they remain still and unseen.”
When Kunikuzushi was ten, he told her he no longer wished to sleep in the cage.
“Don’t act so childish.” Ei always seemed to forget that he acted childish because he was a child. He had not been blessed with even the liberties of a toddler.
The lovely shrine maiden had taken to his side that night, after Ei spent long hours reprimanding him for making such an abhorrent request.
“If you have nothing good to say,” The wise fox started, “Then do not speak at all. She will be far more pleased with you if you keep your silence.”
“I promise.” Ten-year-old Kunikuzushi looked at her with wide, teary eyes, “I will not speak again.”
He took an oath.
“Good.” She clicked her tongue as she took his chin between her fingers, “You must remember, you are not family. You cannot, and will not live amongst us like you are. Do you understand?”
He nodded, and with that, she left, slamming the door behind her.
As soon as the sounds of her shoes clicking against the hardwood disappeared, Kunikuzushi keeled over and wept.
Kunikuzushi was accustomed to his life.
“You are to do what is asked of you without question, you will work hard for your place in this home, for the food we feed you. Disobey and she will let you go hungry.”
’She’
Miko had always separated herself from Ei, as if the fox was not also partially responsible.
At the first appearance of light every morning, Kunikuzushi pushed himself from his cage, where he’d then head to the gardens to tend to the flora.
Despite the plethora of staff and servants the Inazuman tyrant had at her disposal, Kunikuzushi was the only one permitted to enter the year. It seemed that no matter what he did, his family was always out to humiliate him.
What a bother.
Under his dutiful care, the desolate yard had bloomed with beautiful flower beds of all different hues, which stretched from the garden outwards to the sea.
The trees were placed in neat rows, apples, oranges and plums grew from them in excess, and whenever the guards looked away, he’d pluck one for himself and smuggle it back to his cage.
In spring, butterflies and bees accompanied him in his afternoon walks. If he wasn’t so eternally miserable, perhaps Kunikuzushi would have come to appreciate its beauty.
Kunikuzushi missed dancing.
His auntie once granted him preliminary lessons in dance, music and arts but, his luck always had a habit of running short, and before long, she too ripped that away from him, deeming him unworthy of such poise.
His empty heart cried out for the crisp air of salty ocean, the howling winds of the moor which ran through the tall grass like serpents, the feeling of sand between his toes as he lifted his heavy blade towards the skylines.
Kunikuzushi doubted he could even wield a sword anymore, much less dance with a claymore.
Most of all, Kunikuzushi wished to see them again.
The stranger, who watched him perform from high upon the neighboring cliff side of Nazuchi Beach.
Kunikuzushi could never make out the stranger’s face, nor any distinguishable facets of their appearance due to the distance, but he always put on quite a show for them.
He sang, spun and told marvelous stories in his ballads, the jingle of ringing bells followed each careful step and note.
He hoped his song would be carried by the wind as his watcher’s eyes stayed glued to his swaying form throughout and by the end, when the maids called him back to the palace, the stranger would have disappeared.
“I’ll dance for you again, one day.” He promised.
Though Ei and Miko had envisioned him to be a performer, when there were no guests to speak of, they used him as an errand boy.
The servants raised him on their knowledge; How to cook-to clean, how to sew and mend and how the ladies of the house liked their tea brewed; He was an exceptionally fast learner.
Whenever he was not tending to the gardens or parading himself around visitors, he did chores, domestic work around the palace.
But he never spoke.
He spoke when spoken to by the ladies of the house, but otherwise, his lips remained sealed.
“If you have nothing good to say, then do not speak at all. She will be far more pleased with you if you keep your silence.”
The place where his heart should have been, it hurt and the wound would not close. No matter how long he kept his peace.
His birthday was soon.
He had learned over time that his birthday was a stain on their family, a smeer in their perfect history, a date that forever maimed their happiness.
He endured it every year; Lashings, beatings, starvation, anything that Ei had in store for him, to make him remember that it is her blood in his veins.
-And on his hands.
Ei noticed that he cried, often during the aftermath, in his sleep.
He woke up screaming from his nightmares on most days, memories of his birthday ‘celebrations’ came back to haunt him in his most vulnerable moments.
If his cries ever frightened lady Miko from her slumber, she’d storm into his room, fuming and force him into handling twice as many chores the coming mornings as the previous days.
His heart was always the one to wake him up sobbing.
“How can I help you?” He begged, “Let me rest.”
“Pull your throat out.” His heart replied.
Kunikuzushi hid away in the palace libraries often.
Ei and Miko prohibited him from stepping foot into many places within palace walls, for instance, the pagoda in the north, where the high ranking officials and overseas royals usually gathered.
He found his own way to get around, though.
Knowledge was power, and Kunikuzushi would stop at nothing to devour as much as he could. He learnt from people of the past, through fantasy novels and journals, historical texts and informational manuals.
It was as if he were gouging the words from the page like meat from a cantaloupe.
When the sun eventually set and the room was no longer bright enough to distinguish the ink from darkness, Kunikuzushi set off back to his cage, as he did, a crowd of servants passed him, their heads bowed and huddled together as they whispered.
Kunikuzushi was never one to gossip, but tended to drift towards their word of mouth from time to time.
“Did you get a good look at him?” A young woman gasped, hands over his lips. “What is he like?”
“He’s gorgeous- incredibly charming as well.” The group swooned.
“Isn’t he getting married to that noble lady in Tatarasuna?”
“I hear he’s already rejected her proposal.” One of the butlers whispered.
“But she was so beautiful, why does he keep rejecting them? Does he not deem them worthy?”
“Rumors have it that he is already secretly in love with someone.”
’How narcissistic, to think of yourself so highly with no merit.’
Kunikuzushi distantly wondered who they were speaking of, but chose (out of principle) not to ask as he headed back to his cage.
Kunikuzushi was more than what anyone could’ve ever anticipated.
He was handsome..
His blue eyes developed into the likeness of gemstones which brimmed with mischief, porcelain skin was fairer than that of any other and his face was framed prettily by his hair, which fell over his shoulders like moonlight spilling over ocean.
He’d become rather skillful as well.
Though his lessons did come to an end, it never stopped him from pursuing what he loved, albeit against Ei’s wishes.
His childish, rebellious nature dimmed, but never once died.
He learnt many languages, Liyuan and Snezchnayan were by far the hardest to grasp in both speech and writing but he powered through to the best of his limited facilities, being unable to practice with another severely held him at a distance.
Even with his knowledge of entry level language, Kunikuzushi remained ever silent.
One particular book had caught his fancy, he spent a majority of his days in the library pouring over it.
Once, a dimly-witted maid passed him during his time in the library, caught him in the midst of his special book and thought ; “My good god! He’s learning shadow puppetry!”
“The Nagamasa family will be here today,” Her words were spoken like vomit in the back of her throat.
“Nagamasa?”
“King Mikoshi and his chosen heir, Prince Katsuragi.” Ei made sure to shackle him down to his cage, she tugged on the iron once to hear it rattle in place. “Remain in your cage until it is over.”
Eventually, the midsummer song of cicadas lulled him to sleep, he leaned up against one of the bars, his legs tucked neatly underneath him as he rested his head in the gap between each prong.
Many hours later, the door creaked on its hinges as it pushed open, the grating sound did not wake the lone figure inside.
A tall and pale man stepped through, his right hand held the handle while his left carded through the knotted strands of his hair, which had been pulled up into a messy, short ponytail.
The man laughed as he kneeled down to inspect Kunikuzushi’s sleeping expression, his breath warm against the winter air as it fogged like smoke.
Miko came through a moment after, panting as she stopped by the door to peer inside.
“Prince Katsuragi,” Her voice quivered, shaking like a leaf, “Why did you run off so suddenly?”
“Shhhh,” He turned to look at her over his shoulder, his eyes shimmering with amusement, “He’s sleeping.”
“Would you like me to wake him?”
“No need,” The prince chuckled, standing, “He must have had a long day, I’ll let him rest.”
Miko turned on her heels as the prince followed her out.
When the king’s men settled for the night, Ei rushed over from her side of the castle to his chambers, her face burning crimson. She shook the bars so violently that the cage threatened to tip from the sheer force alone.
When she caught sight of the defiance in his eyes, she threw him across the room, the cabinets fell to the floor with a shatter as the contents of each glass bottle splattered like eggshells.
“The king’s heir came to see you, but you were sleeping!”
Her voice was irritatingly calm, smooth as silk as she gripped his hair tightly by the roots.
He resisted the urge to cry out in pain, but it was obvious from the way his arms were shaking that the flood within his eyes was but a hair away from snapping and spilling all over the carpet.
He was going to get beaten again.
“What a failure you’ve become.”
Emptying out his mother’s belly was his first act of fantastical magic.
His second was learning to shrink for a family who preferred him invisible.
“Filthy brat!” The back of her hand came careening, the impact hurt worse than a hot iron against his bare skin.
In these moments, he performed his third trick, disappearance.
“You’re useless!” She sneered, kicking him to the side as Kunikuzushi curled up on himself, coughing.
It was an art, disappearing, that is.
He repeated the spell to himself, like a wish; ’I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing.’
"You don't deserve even an ounce of happiness."
He’d mistaken anger for kindness too many times to count, Miko insisted that she only hurt him out of love.
“You don’t understand how much I hate you. I’ll show you.”
It seemed good, in theory, but now, he cannot distinguish the difference between them because -
“Why couldn’t you have died and Makoto lived!?”
- Everything reminded him of his auntie.
The prince was there the next day as well, much to everyone’s grief.
No one expected him to return, during their dinner service the previous night, Prince Katsuragi remained aloof, his eyes were always searching for a gap between the crowds, where he’d escape the stuffy atmosphere for a moment of respite.
He was especially distant to the suitors who approached him, flocking to him like birds.
That morning, during the prince’s breakfast, he spotted Kunikuzushi wandering the gardens and ignored his family’s calls as he chased after the fleeting figure in the flowers.
The prince came to him, brandishing a sword at his hip and a lop-sided smile.
“You are far prettier than I remember,” The prince mused, “I wish to know your name. I find you rather eccentric.”
Kunikuzushi pushed past him, demeanor icy as he knelt down to pick out another rotted stem.
’Eccentric? How dare he.’
“I was the one watching you at the beach,” Kunikuzushi’s hand stilled, “You were mesmerizing, that sword you held could’ve slain hundreds with how you danced. It took me years to find you again, I didn’t expect to find you here, of all places.”
Kunikuzushi’s heart fluttered.
’It’s you.’
Katsuragi grinned smugly as Kunikuzushi’s expression wrinkled.
“When I free you from your cage, won’t you dance for me again?”
Kunikuzushi flushed at the request, looking away bashfully..
“Won’t you speak to me, sweet eccentric? Or is it that the Shogun prevents your speech?”
The purple-haired boy nodded sharply, turning his nose up as the two of them strolled, but as he did, Katsuragi took his chin between his thumb and index, bringing his face down to their palms.
Kunikuzushi watched keenly as the prince moved his hands back to front, then over again in a purposeful pattern. It clicked in his head almost instantaneously as his eyes widened at the recognition.
‘Can you speak like this?’ Katsuragi signed.
‘You know how to sign?’ Kunikuzushi placed the basket on the ground as he replied, ignoring the elder’s questions completely.
‘Sir Nozomu is deaf. I learned how to speak with him.’ He smiled at Kunikuzushi’s owlish expression.
‘When I-” He began again, this time with his voice. Kunikuzushi lurched forward to hold the man’s lips together, interrupting him.
‘Don’t you mean ‘if’?’ Kunikuzushi gestured, the prince shook his head as he took the man’s hands into his own.
“When I rescue you, you must dance with me, my dear eccentric.”
Kasuragi visited more often than Kunikuzushi would have liked.
Kunikuzushi never told the prince his name, afraid that its origin would scare his only friend away, so the nickname had (regrettably) stuck.
“Eccentric, won’t you come with me to the beach again? The weather is lovely today.”
‘I’m not allowed to leave the castle unless Lady Miko allows it.’
The prince scoffed, Kunikuzushi had never met someone so uncaring of the rules, “I’ll have Nagamasa ruin her for you.”
Kunikuzushi’s fingers danced as he signed, “Don’t, you’ll forsake your family name if you do that.”
“Why must you be so demure, eccentric?”
‘I do it to keep you from trouble, Katsuragi.’ - Kunikuzushi lifted his hand to his mouth to cover the smirk forming against his will.
The rumors were true, Katsuragi was gorgeous.
In a rugged, mountain-man type of way with a bushy head of dark hair, loose clothes all around, with a lean body and built arms. He was quite the looker.
“It is a shame that you’ve lost your voice, eccentric, I would have loved to hear another song.”
Kunikuzushi frowned, ‘Do you deem me as lesser now, that I cannot sing for you?’
“No, I would never. Why would I ask you to dance with me if I deem you unworthy?” The prince laughed, “I would do anything for a dance with you, eccentric.”
‘I can do just that, but I will need better clothes. After all, the Mikoshi heir will be watching me.’
“I’ll get you the finest kimono in the land, your performance will make history, eccentric.
“Prince Katsuragi, you’d do well to avoid that boy.”
“But he is your kin, is he not?”
“There are no heirs to the throne, Katsuragi.” She hissed, sitting back in her throne, “He is a threat to the Inazuman aristocracy.”
“He is a prince, just as much as I.”
Her frown deepened ever so slightly, the table shook as she stood.
“It is simply politics, Prince Katsuragi.” She shuffled over to him, her heeled shoes dragged along the wooden floors, “Do you know of bastard children?”
Katsuragi blinked, his hands clenched idly in his lap, “I do.”
The archon hummed.
“My nephew has far more claims to the throne than any other. That child was born of a tragedy, he takes and takes until there is nothing left to give. Disgrace was his birthright.”
Ei went silent as she allowed Katsuragi to sit with it.
“Lady Ei.”
“Hmm?”
“If a bastard child were to marry someone of status, would they be legitimized?”
A coy laugh erupted in the quiet room, “Do you plan to marry him?”
’I do, but I don’t even know his name.’
Katsuragi’s stare hardened, though she neither cared nor took notice of his seriousness.
“It’s a poor choice for a noble, marrying someone so lesser. You’ve got so much to lose and nothing to gain.”
Katsuragi slept restlessly that night.
Katsuragi filed out into the courtyard late into the afternoon, exhaustion pulling at his limbs as he settled beneath the sakura tree. Sir Nozomu shuffled over next to him as Katsuragi peered over at the art piece in his companion’s lap.
It was a painting of his dear eccentric.
‘He’s a lovely subject.’ The deaf guard signed, a bright smile gracing his features, one of the brightest Katsuragi had seen from his dear friend.
Katsuragi looked out towards the clearing, where the nameless dancer stood, stock still as he peered up at the smoldering sky.
“Eccentric!” Upon hearing his nickname, Kunikuzushi turned to look, already knowing who would meet his gaze.
‘Why do you call me that? Have you any other phrase?’ Kunikuzushi crept up the hillside, hand holding his hip like how he had seen Katsuragi and Nozomu rest their hands on their swords’ hilts.
“It’s an endearment, and I love how you react when I call you as such.” Katsuragi beckoned him with a sweet look, softness in his eyes, all focused on Kunikuzushi instead of the mesmerizing sunset behind him, “The sunset compliments your blush, you are oh, so pretty, eccentric.”
As to be expected, his nameless love scoffed, ‘Save that for all the men and women who beg to hear those words from you, Prince Katsuragi.’
A boisterous groan from the garden tore both of them away from their feud as sir Kinjiro stepped out from the shrubbery, hair sticking out in every which way.
“I can hear your mindless lovestrucked-ness from all over yonder! Nozomu may be deaf but even he can sense how sickly you both are!”
As the knight pushed past them, Kunikuzushi elbowed him square in the stomach, sending him into a howling fit of well-deserved pain. Katsuragi could hear Nozomu’s giggles from the treeside.
“You’ve grown closer to my knights.” Katsuragi murmured to him as they sat side by side beneath the emerging stars, “They see you as family.”
‘They are good to me,’ The other signed, ‘I appreciate good people, they are few and far between.’
Katsuragi kept Nozomu’s drawing of Kunikuzushi, for good luck.
The prince’s guest bedroom had a perfect view of the garden, almost as perfect as his own, and Kunikuzushi knew that Katsuragi watched him through his windows (The Nagamasa heir wasn’t as sneaky as he thought himself to be).
This meant he was definitely stealing some apples from him.
Katsuragi always found it amusing how Kunikuzushi brought a stool out with him to the orchard, as his short legs never managed to reach the higher branches. He had to tiptoe on the edge, only to barely graze its skin, missing completely.
“Oh, you must get that one, it’s redder than the others.” The teasing voice came from behind him as Katsuragi pointed to the highest apple on the tree.
Without missing a beat, Kunikuzushi turned on his heels and huffed, ‘If you want it so badly, pick it yourself.’ Urging him on.
Katsuragi did just that, he pressed up against Kunikuzushi’s side, one hand slyly slithering around the smaller’s waist as he reached up and plucked it from the clutch.
As he bit into its skin, Kunikuzushi grinned wickedly as his face scrunched at the sour taste.
‘Too ripe for you, prince?’
“Don’t look at me like that, devil, you planned this.”
Katsuragi remained by his side for the next passing hours in comfortable conversation until Kunikuzushi stopped him.
‘Why are you here, prince? Did someone send you or are you just here to pester me.’
“When do your duties end?” He asked quietly, Kunikuzushi cocked his head.
‘When the bells toll around evening is when I’ll be finished.’
Katsuragi nodded, “Meet me in the gardens tonight, not a minute later, eccentric.”
‘Kunikuzushi.’
“What?” Katsuragi looked at him quizzically.
‘My name, call me by my name.’
“Kuni-ku-zushi.” He paused, “Country destroyer?”
Kunikuzushi felt his organs cave but Katsuragi only chuckled.
“How ironic. Someone as angelic as you gets saddled with such a destructive label.”
‘Are you mocking me? I’ll have you know, I won’t stand for this.’ He turned away, afraid of looking at Katsuragi’s expression, ‘Acting all high and mighty as you do, know that this is the reason why I hate you.’
“On the contrary, I find your name lovely.” The prince smiled, “Kuni-ku-zushi.”
Kunikuzushi knew he should have been crumbling for better reasons, but the way Katsuragi said his name so lovingly had brought the moon to its knees.
Every revolution began and ended with his lips, Katsuragi decided.
“What am I to you?” Kunikuzushi murmured somberly against his neck, the two of them hidden away deep within the brush of the forest, the stars their only light.
Katsuragi raked his fingers through Kunikuzushi’s hair, with delicacy, as if he were handling the most precious fabric in the world.
“You,” Katsuragi pressed another fleeting kiss to his temple, “Are every hope I’ve ever had in human form.”
Ei took notice of their blooming relationship.
Katsuragi hadn’t heeded her warning like she predicted, and thus, she sought out an object to blame.
Katsuragi left for home a few days prior, promising to return to Kunikuzushi’s side as soon as his duties were over.
The lady of the house wasted no time in dishing out his impending doom. They busied him with all sorts of tasks, until he began arriving at his cage in the early hours of the morning and waking up long before even the sun rose.
Coupled with his nightmares, Kunikuzushi barely got a wink of sleep.
He was so exhausted.
It was a few hours before Katsuragi was set to return to him, and Ei was in a particularly foul mood and allowed for her rage to disperse into violence.
“You don’t deserve rest. You don’t deserve a single thing!” She shrieked, her polearm’s tip pressed tightly against his nape.
He had been afraid to look at himself in the mirror for days, the bruising on his face was monstrous, based on the pitiful looks he got from the other servants.
The beatings would tear him in half, but would never end him and god did he wish they did.
His body and mind were at war, one trying to heal, the other trying to escape; Kunikuzushi was the collateral damage, the paradox that joined the two but split them like skin and sandpaper.
She was about to drive the end of her spear through his throat when the door crashed open, its rusty hinges creaking loudly as their steel knobs bashed against the wall.
”Enough!”
Prince Katsuragi stood proud in his army uniform, dressed head to toe in his regalia.
“-Hy would you ever-?!”
“He’s royalty now, you can’t just-!”
Kunikuzushi could only catch the tail end of their conversation as he felt hands grasp at his limp body, the world melted away like dripping candle wax.
“-Kuzushi, are you awake?”
Kunikuzushi hefted himself from the bed, already peering around the room in alarm.
The bedroom he’d woken up in was a far cry from his cage.
The interior was decorated sparsely, though the gold and silver detailing of each intricate piece within it carried the atmosphere. The thick fur rug draped across his shoulders and the velvet curtains were a peasant’s dream come true.
‘What happened?’ He gestured tiredly.
“She was put away,” Katsuragi paused as he shifted his gaze, “For harming a royal’s husband.”
A moment of tense silence passed, the true implication of his words
This time, Kunikuzushi spoke.
“Katsuragi,” The prince jolted upright, surprised by the croaky voice that called out to him. “Are you proposing to me?”
The prince nodded and the angel smiled, he outshone the sun.
“Then drop to your knees and ask me properly.”
Kunikuzushi never returned to his cage, instead, he resided in the Nagamasa household.
“You must be the eccentric I’ve been hearing of, Katsuragi is very fond of you.” King Mikoshi took his hand, the rough calluses on each of his fingers did not deter Kunikuzushi as he took the monarch’s palms in his.
‘He knows quality when he sees it, I suppose.’
“You’re brilliant!” The king chortled, “It takes a unique power to remain kind in moments of cruelty, dear. You are not here as a guest, you are here as family.”
Family.
It felt foreign on his fingers, but wonderful to write.
As Katsuragi had promised, the prince dressed Kunikuzushi up in the most daring and extravagant clothing he could get his hands on.
Fine jewels decorate his accessories and the sword he wielded was made by Katsuragi himself, dubbed the Katsuragikiri Nagamasa. White, gold, purple lace flew out from the sleeves and drowned him in effortless waves of fabric designed for someone of impossible wealth.
“Come here, eccentric,” For once, Kunikuzushi followed obediently, not because he was forced, nor was it out of fear. He just worshiped the smile that appeared on Katsuragi’s face whenever he followed.
The prince cupped his hands around the Katsuragiki, as he drew it towards the sky and they danced.
In the moonlit night on Nazuchi beach, a prince and his nameless eccentric performed a sword dance to the rhythm of pounding drums.
Kinjiro’s hollering could be heard all around the open fire as Katsuragi and the eccentric stepped in tandem, there was grace in every turn, poise in every swing and by the end, both were heaving for air.
“You command attention, don’t you, country destroyer?”
Kunikuzushi inched forward on his heels, goosebumps rising on the skin of Katsuragi’s sweaty shoulders. He could see Katsuragi’s jaw clench ever so slightly as he pressed another chaste kiss against his lips.
“I can’t help it.” The angel confessed. “It was my birthright.”