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Summary
Kazuha finds Scaramouche’s back to be very pretty.
He loves the shape and back of Scaramouche’s blue kimono, the way the silken sleeves fall like wisterias, dew drops kissing his arms at the sliver of sunlight. His hat shades his dark indigo hair with the soft veil hiding him from the view of others, beautiful and untouchable. His proud shoulders held high like a divine being, beaming in the sunlight with his blinding might, yet somehow a part of him still looked delicate, as if made of glass. As if he held the whole world on his own two shoulders, a weight that seems too heavy to carry onto for a mere mortal.
Otherworldly. It only tempts Kazuha more, the urge in his body to touch, feel, and embrace him in his arms.