Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izuminokami is always aware of Kunihiro’s comings and goings. For one, he’d be a pretty lame partner if he weren’t. For two, he has to know when Kunihiro is scheduled to go on a sortie or an expedition or a trip to the general store without him, so Izuminokami can plan accordingly and either 1.) wheedle his way to being on the same survey team as Kunihiro, no matter how boring or tedious the task is, or 2.) piss the saniwa off enough to put the two of them on a different assignment later on. Which usually works out for him. Even if the sortie or expedition or general store turns out boring and tedious as hell.

So it comes as a bit of a shock when he returns to their room one afternoon, trying to sneak away from fieldwork and take a little nap, only to see Kunihiro in the middle of placing some neatly-folded button-downs in a suitcase.

A nap is suddenly the last thing on Izuminokami’s mind. “Kunihiro? You going somewhere?”

“Oh, Kane-san. Yup, I have to accompany Aruji-san for a little trip.” Kunihiro places a neatly-folded suit jacket atop the button-downs.

“A little trip.” Izuminokami blinks. “What, like, just. Just the two of you?”

“Mhm.”

“For how long?”

Kunihiro has the nerve to pretend to think about it when Izuminokami is sure he damn well knows for how long. “About… three days?”

“Three days?” Izuminokami parrots. “Three days of just you and Aruji? On a little trip?”

“It’s not that long, Kane-san. It’s about the same time it takes swords to go on their training journeys.”

Before he can watch Kunihiro place a neatly-folded pair of slacks atop the suit jacket, Izuminokami stomps out of their room, down the hall, up some stairs, and finally towards Aruji’s room, where he slams the sliding doors open so hard they nearly bounce closed again. “Aruji! What’s the meaning of this?!” he demands.

Aruji doesn’t even look up from their own suitcase, crammed full of a lot less neat and folded clothes than Kunihiro’s. “Izuminokami-san. Aren’t you supposed to be on fieldwork duty right now?”

“You little sneak. You thought you could distract me with tilling the fields with that blasted Mutsunokami so you could pull Kunihiro away and tell him you’re taking a little trip all alone with him for three days. Three days! All alone!” Izuminokami feels the need to repeat. “Where are you even going? Three days isn’t long enough for a vacation, or a wedding, or a honeymoon!”

Aruji hums. “Got it in two.”

“A h-h-honeymoon?!” Izuminokami’s not actually sure what a honeymoon is, but Kashuu’s manga hadn’t made it sound as boring and tedious as a scouting expedition, that’s for sure.

“A wedding,” Aruji clarifies, which is almost worse than a honeymoon since Izuminokami actually knows what a wedding is, only for Aruji to further clarify, “My cousin’s. She got me to be part of the entourage and it’s been a massive headache so if I don’t bring someone to help keep me sane I might just die in the hotel bathtub. Anyway, that’s why I’ll be borrowing Horikawa-san for a while. You can survive without him for three days, can’t you?”

“Umm. Obviously,” Izuminokami lies. The last time he’d gone that long without Kunihiro had been when Time Government mechanics had to conduct maintenance on the time travel device while his unit was on an expedition, and they ended up lazing around in a 15th century forest for a full week instead of the scheduled two days. Suffice to say that had easily been the worst week for Izuminokami’s hair. “It’s Kunihiro who can’t survive without me. Be a little more considerate for him, will you? Bring… er… Mutsunokami.” Beautiful, gorgeous peace and quiet for three days. “Or… like… Hasebe.” Also beautiful, gorgeous peace and quiet for three days. “Or! Wait a minute! Why not Kashuu? You know, your actual assistant?”

Aruji sighs. “First of all, Mutsunokami-san will not keep me sane. As for Heshikiri-san and Kashuu—”

“—they’re who’ll be keeping the citadel sane while Aruji-san is away,” Kunihiro finishes, from behind. Izuminokami scowls and steps aside to let Kunihiro stand by the doorway with him. “They need someone who can clean up and help with scheduling, but who isn’t needed as much as, say… Shokudaikiri-san in the kitchen.” He gives Izuminokami a cute little smile like that will make Izuminokami forgive him for this grave betrayal. “Sorry, Kane-san. I was going to explain, but then you rushed out on me.”

Izuminokami feels himself go through five different expressions until his facial muscles give up and settle into a comforting scowl. “I need you. In the kitchen.”

“Kane-san is so kind. But maybe without me around you’ll eat a bit healthier for a little while.”

“Just for that I’m going to eat nothing but—” your food, Izuminokami would normally threaten Kashuu or Yamatonokami, but Kunihiro’s food consists of as many vegetables as there is meat, so Izuminokami can only grumble, “but… nothing.” And before Kunihiro can look any more amused Izuminokami whirls on Aruji, who seems preoccupied with trying to squeeze a plush toy in their suitcase. “Aruji! Can’t you just bring me along?”

“Huh?” The plush toy pops out with a sad wheeze. “You coming along will just give Horikawa-san more work, won’t it?”

“Hey! Just what do you think of me?! Besides, I can be of use to you too on this stupid trip!” Izuminokami crosses his arms. “What if someone drinks too much and corners you in the lobby and you need a cool and strong sword like me to drive them away, huh?”

“I’m sure Horikawa-san can handle that… though I don’t think that’s going to happen at all. You’re reading too much of Kashuu’s manga.” Aruji picks the stupid plush toy up and gives it an apologetic pat on its stupid plush head.

…It looks an awful lot like Izuminokami himself, now that he’s looking at it. “Is that me?”

“Oh, yeah. My niece is a huge fan.”

“Ohhh.” Izuminokami tosses his hair over his shoulder — Kunihiro tilts his head just so to avoid getting smacked in the face. “Heh, well, she’s got good taste — no! Don’t think you can distract me!” he seethes. “Bring both of us or none at all! Got it?!”

Aruji sighs and finally manages to wiggle the Izuminoplushie into the suitcase. “Honestly… I asked Horikawa-san because I know he can behave himself during the wedding and reception. But you…”

Izuminokami scowls harder. “But I?”

“…This is what I’m talking about. Horikawa-san, what do you think? Will Izuminokami-san behave himself?”

Kunihiro gives Izuminokami that stupid little smile again, the one that always has Izuminokami trudging off to go do fieldwork or eat his tomatoes. For once, though, this smile is a portent of good fortune. “Kane-san will behave if I ask him to. Won’t you, Ka-ne-san?”

Izuminokami bristles. “Why do you two talk about me like I’m a dog. As if I can’t behave myself perfectly fine!”

“Shall we start with working on your indoors voice?”

“I can behave myself perfectly fine,” Izuminokami repeats, emphatically but slightly less commanding.

Aruji gives them a long look, then shakes their head. “Can’t say I didn’t know this would happen…” They force their bulging suitcase shut, then stand up and head towards the doorway. “I’ll make the announcement. Izuminokami-san, start packing. Our flight’s this weekend.”

Kunihiro shakes his head, but Izuminokami’s already pulling him into a headlock. “Hah! See! You couldn’t go three days without me. Be a little more grateful I just saved your backstabbing life.”

“Yes, yes. I’m very grateful.” Kunihiro tips his head back to rest it against Izuminokami’s chest, which means Izuminokami gets a front-seat view of Kunihiro’s grin melting into a soft, sincere smile, the one that has Izuminokami’s silly human heart throbbing like crazy. “Geez, Kane-san, you really do always get your way. But Aruji-san and I are serious about behaving, okay?”

Izuminokami scowls as hard as he can at Kunihiro. “And I’m serious about behaving too. Why don’t either of you believe me! It’s not like I’m going to stand up and say I oppose the wedding!”

“You really have been reading too much of Kashuu-san’s manga…”

Izuminokami has had plenty of new experiences since manifesting in this human body. Obviously he’ll never forget when he first went with Aruji to the city, mostly because he’d gotten lost five different times and almost wound up in another city entirely. And he’ll definitely never forget when he and Yamatonokami had to report to the Time Government’s branch office once because Aruji was dead asleep and they had to sit in mind-numbing silence as the other saniwa based in Tokyo droned on and on and on about plans they couldn’t care less about, and they nearly ended up in a brawl with a narcissistic saniwa who wondered what kind of master they had, that they couldn’t attend one simple meeting. And finally, he’ll absolutely, definitely never forget when he spread two futons side-by-side in their room and fell asleep for the first time next to Kunihiro, who had practically jumped him when he manifested and wouldn’t let go of his arm or hand or face for the next three days.

Therefore, being on a plane doesn’t faze him. At all. Seriously. He doesn’t grab Kunihiro’s hand when the plane rumbles and growls and snarls and finally takes off. And even if he does, he obviously lets go as soon as the plane settles into a smooth flight. And even if he doesn’t release Kunihiro from his vice grip right away, he obviously only lets Kunihiro tie and retie his hair over and over again because it’s comforting for Kunihiro, not Izuminokami. Obviously.

“Kane-san, Kane-san, Kane-san,” Kunihiro sings as he braids Izuminokami’s hair for the eighth time. “You know we’re going to have to get on a plane to fly back home, right?”

“Obviously. Shut up,” Izuminokami says, not quite in the order he meant. He chances a glance out the window next to him and immediately looks away. Clouds are best viewed from the ground, after all, as normal people view them. He chances a glance at the seat behind them instead, and gawks at seeing Aruji already fast asleep, head lolling onto the weird, doughnut-like pillow around their neck. “Seriously? How can they sleep knowing they’re on a death trap millions of feet off the ground?”

“Airplanes are really quite safe,” Kunihiro says, unhelpfully. He undoes the perfect braid he just braided and starts over for the ninth time. Honestly, if he’s so nervous about being in a death trap millions of feet off the ground, he could just say so. Silly Kunihiro. “So long as there’s minimal turbulence, of course. And stable weather conditions. And working communications—”

Izuminokami grabs his shoulder and shakes him around until Kunihiro’s laughs get all stupid and wheezy and breathless, like they do whenever they have dumb little wrestling matches in their room Izuminokami will never tell anyone about, ever, and hearing Kunihiro’s voice sound strange and full of air makes Izuminokami’s stupid human lungs swell up to twice their size. “Okay! Okay,” Kunihiro says, strangely, airily. “But really, Kane-san, it’s safe. You should rest too; it’s a long flight, and you woke up earlier than usual.”

Izuminokami heaves a heavy sigh. “I mean. Not that I can’t sleep or anything. A sword like me can withstand even a death trap like this falling millions of feet onto the ground. But what about you, Kunihiro? Someone has to keep you company so you don’t get so nervous you get sick.”

“Sure, sure.” Here comes the tenth braid. “I’ll wake you up when they serve us the food.”

The food was subpar at best. What Izuminokami will never admit is that he had quite the restful nap on the plane after all, if only because Kunihiro had guided his drooping head to rest on his shoulder and even if their positions were upright it felt just a little bit like sleeping with Kunihiro in their room like usual, his face pressed against the junction between Kunihiro’s neck and shoulder that let Izuminokami breathe in the smell of fabric softener and their shared shampoo and… other wakizashi smells. He always fit just right with Kunihiro, same as Kunihiro fit just right with him.

Izuminokami had been noticing these things recently. No, not ‘recently’ — he had been noticing these things weeks ago, months ago, ever since he first manifested in this flesh-and-blood body, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the meaning behind such things until recently. So far his prevailing theory was that he had simply not been getting enough of Kunihiro recently, since the more Aruji depended on them, the more they were sent out for tasks that separated them, much as Izuminokami tried to work around this.

But even when Izuminokami did his best to fulfill his daily Kunihiro quota — whether by holding onto him for an extra two-and-a-half minutes in the mornings, or by wrapping his arms around his torso while he’s in the kitchen and asking what’s for lunch, or by nuzzling into him as soon as they get into bed for the night — Izuminokami can never quite stop noticing these feelings, sensations, what Yagen Toushirou calls biological reactions. Not, of course, that Yagen had been much help with explaining what biology he’s reacting to. Anyway, this rather debunked Izuminokami’s theory, since it seemed the more he held onto Kunihiro, the more he wanted to keep doing so, which didn’t really help answer his questions. Though it did mean a lot more holding than they used to. The last time they touched each other this much was probably back when Izuminokami first manifested and they couldn’t get enough of each other.

…That is, Kunihiro couldn’t get enough of him. Obviously.

Such are the thoughts swirling around Izuminokami’s half-conscious brain when they finally land in some foreign country Izuminokami pretends to recognize when Aruji informs them of its name — all he knows is that it’s hot and dry and has him sweating in minutes, even in the air-conditioned airport. Hardly a good look for a sword like him, when he can feel the stares and whispers of passersby around them.

Aruji helps him clip on the translation device to his ear, and he grouses for several minutes about how it doesn’t fit right with his earrings. He stops when he overhears someone whistle and shout, “Hey, handsome!”

Izuminokami has already turned around when Kunihiro loops an arm around his and begins dragging him away. “Don’t listen to them, Kane-san.”

“Huh? You saying they’re wrong?!”

“Of course you’re very handsome and beautiful and cool and strong, but if you ever want to hear that again, just ask me or Aruji-san, not listen to strangers? Okay?”

Izuminokami has half a mind to argue — he cranes his neck enough to spot a gaggle of giggling girls behind them — but remembers what Kunihiro said about behaving himself and reluctantly falls back into step beside his partner. “Honestly,” Izuminokami grumbles, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and shoot them a wink or something, “I get to go to overseas for once and I can’t even talk to the girls! As if we have so many of those back in the citadel!”

Kunihiro laughs, but gives him a curious look. “Do you want to talk to girls, Kane-san?”

“Hah? Well… of course?” Izuminokami says, not quite intending that to come out as a question. But isn’t that a no-brainer? Part of being cool and strong is being cool and strong for the ladies… probably. Unfortunately Izuminokami isn’t allowed to go on trips in the city without someone ‘more responsible than him’ around, so even though he does catch the eye of a girl now and then while walking down Tokyo’s streets, he can’t exactly do more than give her a dashing, debonair grin before Nagasone, Ichigo Hitofuri, or (most often) Kunihiro himself drags him away from her.

“Of course,” Kunihiro echoes, though less in agreement and more in deep thought.

Izuminokami considers him. “What about you, Kunihiro? Don’t you want to talk to girls?”

“Hmm? Well… of course?”

“Hey, now you’re just copying me.”

“Hmm,” Kunihiro only says, frowning. “I guess I never thought about it. It’s not really a priority.”

Izuminokami tries to imagine Kunihiro talking to a girl and immediately shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. It wouldn’t work out.”

“Pft. And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Y’know, you… you’d probably get all nervous and flustered and totally mess up the pick-up lines.”

Kunihiro looks up at him as if wondering if Izuminokami is really talking about himself. “If you say so. Anyway, come on already. If we hurry and settle in the hotel room early, we can spend today exploring the city a bit before the wedding tomorrow!”

Despite himself Izuminokami perks up and quickens his pace.

Aruji has always been rather stingy with funds — going on about what’s most cost-effective or the cheapest possible option or buying secondhand when they can — so Izuminokami gawks at everything in the hotel: from the gentle lights to the plush couches and armchairs to the floor-to-ceiling glass walls… He almost feels a little out of his depth before he remembers who he is and uses one of the many mirrors on the walls to ensure his hair is styled just right. He can already see Kashuu going purple with jealousy that Izuminokami got to go to one of these fancy places instead of him.

But most surprising of all is the hotel room itself. Here Izuminokami had been ready to do something like squeeze in with Aruji and Kunihiro on the single bed, before having to swallow his pride and take the doubtless uncomfortable, too-short couch until Kunihiro took pity on him and kicked Aruji off the bed for them to share instead. Aruji slept like the dead anyway, so they probably wouldn’t even notice.

Instead, he opens the door to an actual apartment.

“It’s called a suite,” Kunihiro tells him.

“It sure is sweet,” Izuminokami says.

Aruji, uncultured creature that they are, doesn’t even blink and just tosses their suitcase to the floor, takes several wobbly steps forward, and collapses onto the sofa with an exhausted groan. “Gonna… nap,” they say, voice muffled by the velvet cushion. “Wake me up when it’s, uh… six…? Yeah, six. Goodnight…”

“Oi! Aren’t you even going to unpack?” Izuminokami demands, stomping in as Kunihiro closes and locks the door behind them. Not that Izuminokami actually wants to unpack, since that seems like a massive waste of time considering they now have a sweet suite to explore, but still. “And what do you mean, six? As in, in five hours? Who naps for five hours? Didn’t you nap during the flight anyway?”

Aruji’s only response is a snore.

Kunihiro tugs on his wrist. “Kane-san, help me unpack first, and then we can take a look around before we have to wake Aruji up.”

Izuminokami shoots their saniwa a disdainful look. “You really would be useless without Kunihiro around, huh?”

But he helps Kunihiro unpack anyway, because someone’s gotta do it and also because he really, really wants to take that look around. The suite is nicer than Aruji’s room back in their citadel — it’s got the living room they walked into, along with a shiny bathroom and a grand dining room, and finally the bedroom. Izuminokami ignores Kunihiro’s half-hearted protest and flops onto the bed, groaning at how he practically sinks into the mattress. Their futons are comfortable and all, but this is luxury he can’t pass up. “Hey, if Aruji just sleeps out on the sofa, then can’t we use this bed, Kunihiro?”

“We can’t do that!” Kunihiro yelps. Then he takes a tentative seat on the edge of the bed. “Oh. Hm.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sure all three of us could fit in this bed,” Kunihiro argues, but he’s already slowly leaned back to lie down on the bed beside Izuminokami. For a few seconds all they do is lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling and relaxing tired muscles, until Kunihiro rolls to lie on his side and tug on Izuminokami’s sleeve. “Alright, enough rest. Don’t you want to explore, Kane-san?”

“Urrrgh.” He does, but he also wants to just lie here and sleep for a couple hundred years. Hotel beds are evil. Perhaps this, too, could be a training regimen: resist temptation by having swords lie down on luxurious mattresses like these during sparring sessions, and whoever falls asleep fastest gets put on cooking duty that day…

“Ka-ne-san!” Kunihiro pulls his sleeve harder. Izuminokami topples off the bed with a choked yelp. “Come on now! Unless you really don’t want to explore? Should I go out by myself?”

“Urrrgh!” Izuminokami picks himself up off the carpeted floor and catches Kunihiro in a headlock. “No way! A tiny wakizashi like you? You’ll get lost in the city in five seconds flat!”

“Yes, yes. Exactly why I need you to be my walking landmark, Kane-san. Now let’s go!”

Izuminokami had looked all around them on the way from the airport and into the hotel, but the streets are still bigger and noisier than he’d been expecting; people come and go, chattering and shouting and hollering, their voices as bright and cheery as the flashing lights on advertisement boards and the changing stoplights. Buildings tower over them as they dodge honking cars, revving motorbikes, and tinkling bicycles. If it weren’t for Kunihiro reminding him to watch where he’s going or look both ways when crossing the street Izuminokami probably would’ve been the one to get lost; back in the citadel, with all its traditional architecture and furniture, he often forgets they’re hundreds of years into the future, but when thrown into the thick of things like this…

Well, it’s a sure reminder that the age he once knew has come and gone. He’d hardly even noticed the passage of time back when he was still locked behind that display case in the museum, and now Izuminokami wonders if he’ll always feel just a little behind the times because of those years of solitude.

“Kane-san.” Kunihiro tugs on his sleeve again, and Izuminokami turns to look at where he’s pointing. “Look. Wouldn’t those match with your earrings?”

“Eh?” Izuminokami squints. Sitting on display in a jewelry store is a silver ring, lined with red on the outside and a deep gold on the inside. “Whaaat, so they would. Aren’t they stealing my style?” He jogs forward to press his face up against the glass wall. “Wouldn’t they also suit you, Kunihiro? Since you’re my partner.”

“Would they? I don’t wear as much red as you do, Kane-san.” But Kunihiro tugs at his earlobes in thought. “Do you want them?”

“P-Psh. Only because you obviously want them. You can’t keep your emotions off your face at all, can you?”

“I guess I can’t.” Kunihiro’s smile is bright. “Anyway, good timing! We have to look good for the wedding tomorrow, after all.”

“Hmm? Are we attending that too?”

“Yup. Aruji-san’s cousin got us seats at the table, so we have to.” Kunihiro lowers his voice in a conspiratorial whisper as they step inside the store. “And I heard other guests will be really happy to meet you, Kane-san.”

“Well!” Izuminokami simply has no choice but to draw himself up to his full height and cross his arms. “Then I really do have to look my best, don’t I?! Kunihiro! Open the wallet! Surely even our stingy saniwa can afford this much for their favorite swords.”

They return to the hotel at 6pm sharp, Izuminokami startling their stingy saniwa awake by slamming a pair of shopping bags down on the table next to their head. “Hey! Time for dinner!” he announces, glancing at Kunihiro on pure reflex and feeling beyond vindicated when Kunihiro just nods. “Come on, come on, get uuuup, Aruji. Look at all this stuff we bought with your money.”

That has Aruji bolting upright. “What?” Their half-lidded eyes land on the shopping bags, and they make a weak, wheezing sound. “What did you do…?”

“It’s not that much,” Kunihiro clarifies, before adopting his killer attack: his big blue eyes. “Anyway, didn’t you say we could buy whatever we want as thanks for coming with you on this trip, Aruji-san?”

As expected, Aruji lasts all of one second against that lethal weapon before groaning and looking away. “Yeah, yeah, I remember… I’ll just tell the rest of the swords to blame you guys when we have to live off fruits and veggies for the rest of the month. What did you buy anyway?”

“Let’s see. These doughnuts are for Yamatonokami-san, the red bean buns are for Kashuu-san, these gingerbread cookies are for Nagasone-san to share with Hachisuka-san and Urashima-san…”

“It’s just all souvenirs?!”

“Hmph! Not all!” Izuminokami steps forward, crossing his arms and grinning down at their saniwa. “Don’t you see anything new, Aruji?”

“Uhhhh…” Aruji blinks, rubs their eyes, and blinks again. “Seems like… the humidity’s getting to you, Izuminokami-san. Your hair’s drooping.”

“What?! No! Kunihiro, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You look fine, Kane-san.”

Aruji rubs their eyes one more time before their gaze finally lands on Izuminokami’s hands. “Oh! That’s… new.” Then they frown and look at Kunihiro, who beams and lifts his own hand up as well. “Oh. That’s definitely new. Did the wedding inspire you guys or something?”

Izuminokami frowns right back. This hadn’t been quite the awed reaction he’d been expecting. “Inspire?”

“Well, yeah. Matching rings on your ring fingers… Did you propose to each other while you’re at it?” Aruji seems to have lost interest already, standing up from the couch and heading over to where they’d left their suitcase on the floor. “Hey, why’s it empty… Horikawa-san, did you unpack already?”

“That’s right.” But Kunihiro sounds similarly puzzled. “Is it strange to have matching rings, Aruji-san?”

“Huh? You seriously asking me that?” Aruji peers into the rooms before walking into the bedroom. “It’s not strange, but usually it means… ah, forget it. Alright, first I’ll get my clothes from the tailor, then we can go get dinner… Horikawa-san, you didn’t need to take the plush out too. Why’s he all tucked in the bed?”

Izuminokami and Kunihiro exchange bewildered looks. Their saniwa certainly says confusing things sometimes and expects them to understand, only to forget they haven’t quite lived in the 23rd century for all that long yet, much less mingled in the 23rd society. “Well, it’s probably not a big deal, right?” Izuminokami says, lifting his hand up to admire how the ring looks. It really does look good together with his earrings. “Anyway, who cares? It looks cool, and that’s what matters.”

Kunihiro nods. “If it were a bad thing, Aruji-san would’ve explained it… maybe.” He looks down at his own ring with a smile — its colors are inverted from the one Izuminokami’s wearing, so a gold band runs around the outside while the inside is red. “It seems they’re not the type to fall off easily during a fight either.”

“…O-Obviously. Of course I knew that.”

The next day is a flurry of activity: they have to wake up early to get their hair and makeup done (Izuminokami growled in warning every time they tried to pull his hair in too many directions, and eventually Kunihiro got up and showed them exactly how his fringe should be styled), then accompany Aruji to a ‘function room’ in the hotel, where they exchange awkward greetings with the other members of the entourage, which Izuminokami understands is basically the bride’s and groom’s closest friends or relatives. The best part is that they get to have burgers for lunch, though Kunihiro staunchly refuses to let Izuminokami ask for more than one. An hour before the wedding, Aruji leads them to the church, then leaves them sitting at a pew near the back after reminding Izuminokami one last time to be on his best behavior.

Izuminokami will suppose walking around the city has been interesting, and he hasn’t even seen a church before, much less been in one, so this has all been very educational. But other than that, sitting around and serving as Aruji’s bodyguard is… mind-numbingly boring. Izuminokami had been hoping something more exciting would happen, but he should probably be glad the History Retrograde Army’s forces haven’t shown up to crash the wedding, like they’ve done a few times during important marriage unions in the past. Unless…

“…Do you think the enemy’s gonna crash the wedding, Kunihiro?”

“I certainly hope they don’t, Kane-san,” Kunihiro says, because he’s completely devoid of imagination.

“What if Aruji’s cousin’s husband someone super important in this time? Wouldn’t they try to kill him and make sure this wedding falls through? Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe they want to make sure this wedding pulls through so that ten years from now, Aruji’s cousin’s husband ditches a government meeting to be with his wife while she’s giving birth to their second kid and then the country falls to pieces.”

Kunihiro turns to give him a pitying smile. “You must be really bored, huh?”

Izuminokami crosses his arms. “These are all totally possible possibilities!”

“Sure.” Kunihiro turns to face the front of the church again. Izuminokami squints at him. Kunihiro’s much better at hiding his emotions, but there’s no denying he looks just the slightest bit bored too, waiting for the wedding to begin. “But if that were actually the case, we’d have been informed of traces of the History Retrograde Army’s presence in the time period, and there haven’t been any reports, so you can rest easy, Kane-san.”

Izuminokami slumps against the back rest of the pew with a huff. “People in the present time sure have it easy.”

The church is growing more crowded than he expected, with most of the pews in the front row filled up and small groups of people gathering to chatter animatedly with one another. Izuminokami had known humans could have truly massive family trees and friend connections, but seeing them all here is still its own brand of fascinating. Maybe other swords who had been passed from master to master had similar relationships, but Izuminokami had only ever known Hijikata and the other swords within the Shinsengumi.

“…Hijikata-san never married, did he?”

Kunihiro blinks. “Eh? Ah, no, he didn’t.”

Izuminokami leans forward to prop his chin up on the edge of his palm. “Why not?”

“Well… in his position, it would’ve been dangerous for anyone to be his wife at the time. He probably didn’t want to endanger anyone he loved enough to marry.”

Izuminokami mulls this over for a while. “Then why do humans get married?” For all the manga he’s borrowed and read from Kashuu, they hadn’t done a very good job at explaining concepts, much like Aruji. Well, and Izuminokami had skipped a few pages so he could get to the epic battle scenes quicker, but that’s beside the point.

“Eh?” Kunihiro repeats, weakly. “That… I can’t really answer that. I’m not a human, myself.”

“But you’ve got a guess or two, don’t you?”

Kunihiro is quiet for a second, which is how Izuminokami knows he’s right. When he speaks again he sounds uncertain, a tone so rare coming from Kunihiro that it’s almost as distracting as his actual words. “When people love each other very much… they get married. That’s it, right?”

Izuminokami looks all around them: at the church pews, the flower displays, the humongous and frankly terrifying statue of some dying dude on a cross front and center. “If I really loved someone, I wouldn’t make ’em go through all this fuss for… what? What do you even get out of being married?”

“Ummm.” Kunihiro scratches his cheek. “I know you get some sort of certificate for it. And that counts as a government document. So, um, perhaps by getting married, you… get certain government benefits? That unmarried people don’t get? It might be related to finances,” he says, looking pleased at his deduction. “You know how Aruji-san is. If they ever got married to someone, it’d probably be to cut down on costs.”

If just attending a cousin’s wedding is simultaneously this boring and this much of a hassle, then Izuminokami doesn’t even want to think about how attending Aruji’s wedding might be like. “Is that it?” he mutters. “If marriage was just about saving money, couldn’t you just marry a stranger off the street and get the benefits like that?”

“H-Hmm… I don’t think it works that way. You have to live with them and start a family, after all.”

Izuminokami gawks at him. “Huh?! Say that kinda stuff first!”

“Er, my bad. I thought you knew at least that much, Kane-san…” Kunihiro looks more amused than apologetic, though. “But, yes. You have to get married to someone you love enough to live and start a family with them… probably.”

“Probably…”

“I think it’s also fine if you don’t want to have children. It depends on your preferences.”

“Preferences…”

Izuminokami mulls this over for a while once more. It makes a bit more sense connecting weddings and marriages to families, since now he knows how families are actually started… but somehow he’s still not quite satisfied. Surely there has to be more than the biological need to reproduce and the societal need to cut costs that spur humans to get married. Or is this incomprehensible to him purely because he isn’t human at all, despite this body of his?

Movement by the doors catches his attention, and he notices — probably belatedly — how the whole church has fallen to an expectant hush. “What’s happening,” Izuminokami mumbles, glancing at the shadows in the corners of the church and resting a hand on his sword body. Maybe he was right and the History Retrograde Army’s forces have infiltrated the place after all.

But Kunihiro bats his hand away. “Kane-san, behave. The bride’s coming in!”

Izuminokami behaves. Izuminokami behaves so well, he doesn’t even say ‘big deal.’ He sits back and watches as a woman he’s never seen in his life — who only maybe looks a little bit like Aruji if he squints — walks in, wearing a long white gown that looks like it would slow her down an awful lot if the History Retrograde Army decides to attack right now. At first he truly has no idea what the big deal is, and he only gets more confused when the woman makes eye contact with an older couple standing by the sides of the aisle and starts crying. For a second he really does think she’s been attacked and is just too overwhelmed by pain to speak.

Then Kunihiro sighs. “She must really love the groom, if she’s this happy.”

Izuminokami pauses. Love. Love. That’s what’s confusing. How do you tell when you love someone? Izuminokami knows, at least, that it’s something along the lines of caring for someone, wanting to be around them all the time, and being worried about them when they’re away from you.

But that isn’t very specific either. It isn’t like he wants to be around Kashuu, Yamatonokami, and Nagasone around all the time, because he’d well and truly go insane if that were the case, but they share too many memories and experiences for him to say he doesn’t love them, embarrassing as that sounds. And he can’t say he doesn’t love Aruji either; after all, they’re the reason he and the rest of the sword warriors can live and breathe right now. Besides, when he thinks about it, he already lives together with all of them in the citadel, and they’re practically a family at this point, just not by blood. So he doesn’t need to marry any of them to accomplish those. The only thing missing is the finance stuff, but since Izuminokami doesn’t actually know the specifics of that, he’ll put it aside for now.

…All this to say: how much does Izuminokami have to love someone for him to want to marry them?

Kunihiro nudges his elbow, startling Izuminokami out of his thoughts. “Are you alright, Kane-san? You’re spacing out.”

“No, I’m not.” Izuminokami turns to stare down at him. At Horikawa Kunihiro. At his partner and assistant. At Hijikata Toshizou’s favorite wakizashi. “Kunihiro?”

“Yes?”

“Would you marry me?”

Kunihiro goes very still for three long seconds. Then he says, “I… I guess…?”

“Huh? What’s with that answer? It’s a yes or no question!”

“T-Then, yes! I would!” Kunihiro stammers, looking weirdly flustered, his eyes wide and his cheeks all red and blotchy. “Uh, but — why do you ask? I mean, what brought this on? I mean, can sword warriors like us even get married…?”

“Why can’t we? More importantly, you would marry me, right?” Izuminokami demands, scooting over to sit closer to Kunihiro, who seems too bewildered to do anything but blink up at him. “Because I thought about it and I wouldn’t want to marry Aruji or Nagasone or Yamatonokami or Kashuu, but it might be alright to marry you? Because, I mean.” He counts it off on his fingers. “We already live together. And I know you care about me, want to be around me all the time, and get worried when we’re apart.”

Kunihiro blinks again, slower this time. “Kane-san is truly amazing to say all that.”

“I know, I know.” Then he frowns. “Wait, no… ugh, forget it. So? It makes sense you’d want to marry me, right?”

Kunihiro reaches up and takes Izuminokami’s hands, patting them gently as he lowers them back down to Izuminokami’s lap. “Yes, okay, I’d marry you,” he says, indulgently. Izuminokami frowns harder and opens his mouth to say something like don’t use that tone with me but Kunihiro speaks first. “What about you, Kane-san? Would you want to marry me?”

“Huh? Well, yeah?”

“Huh? Wait, really?”

“Huh? Yeah, why not?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

“Uhh…” Kunihiro lets go of his hands just to hold his head, as if having trouble keeping it up. “Somehow I’m not sure how to feel about that…”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t want to after all?!”

“No, no, not like that! I’m just confused? Because? Um, why did we start talking about marriage anyway?”

“Huh? Obviously because we’re at a wedding, so—”

“Shh!” someone sitting in the pew behind them hisses. “Talk if you want, but keep it down! Honestly.”

Izuminokami turns around to give this stranger a piece of his mind, but Kunihiro beats him to the punch. “Sorry, sorry! We got a bit carried away. Let’s talk again later, Kane-san.”

“Whaaat. But—”

“Later.”

Without conversation to distract him, the rest of the wedding is a bore: no History Retrograde Army forces come to intercept it after all, and no one stands up in the middle of all the talking to reveal they’re the bride’s long-lost lover here to sweep her off her feet and carry her out of the church. Or something. Izuminokami’s not sure how that scene in the 271st chapter of Kashuu’s favorite manga had gone. By the end of the wedding, just under two hours later, Izuminokami is about ready to fall asleep in the church.

He actually does nod off, and Kunihiro tugging on his sleeve is the only reason he realizes the thing is finally over. “Come on, Kane-san! You’ll like this next part!”

“Nguh? Next part? Weddings come in two parts?” Izuminokami groans. “Maybe we shouldn’t get married after all, Kunihiro. This is such a pain…”

“Not like that. There’s free food!”

That gets his attention. Izuminokami springs up from his seat and follows Kunihiro as if hypnotized.

They meet up with Aruji, who looks beyond exhausted even though all they’d done was walk down the aisle, and follow them back to the hotel, where the ‘cocktail hour’ is apparently being held. “Cocktail?” Izuminokami repeats as they step into the lobby. “Isn’t that a kind of drink? A fancy one those drunkards back at the citadel are always trying to make?”

Aruji is still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes at two in the afternoon. “Uhh. Yeah. It’s called a cocktail hour because they serve cocktails.”

“For an hour?” Kunihiro adds.

“Well, maybe for longer than an hour. The reception’s still at seven.”

“We’re gonna be stuck here for the rest of the day?” Izuminokami definitely does not whine. “The free food better be worth it.”

Aruji sighs. “At least you don’t have to be in some stupid photoshoot, or have to talk to everyone’s relatives, or…” They pause, looking deep in thought as they enter the elevator together. “Actually, maybe you will have to talk to everyone’s relatives, and then their relatives’ relatives. Sorry about that. The other entourage members wouldn’t stop asking me about my ‘pet swords.’”

Kunihiro makes a rare, inelegant snort, while Izuminokami gapes at them. “Pet? We’re pets now? Whose pets are we supposed to—”

“K-Kyaaa! Look, it’s him! It’s Izuminokami!”

With speed to rival a wakizashi Aruji jabs at the button that even Izuminokami knows closes the elevator’s doors, but with speed to rival a tantou the pair of girls with colorful hair sprints across the hallway and slides into the elevator before the doors can close all the way. “Thanks for holding it!” one of the girls gasps out.

“…No problem,” Aruji says. They shoot Kunihiro a look that clearly says ‘I tried.’

“It’s really you! Izuminokami Kanesada!” the other girl cries. Izuminokami decides to dub her Yellow and the first girl Pink, as befits their hair colors. “Ohmygosh! I mean, I heard our saniwa cousin would be bringing some sword warriors along, but still! To think it’d be you!”

In the next split second Izuminokami’s brain makes several connections at light speed. To be completely honest he has no idea why these girls are acting like they know him — or know of him, anyway — but if they’re going to treat him like a celebrity, then he’s hardly going to complain. “Hehe. Happy to see me, aren’t you? Geez, did you only come because you wanted to meet me or something?”

Yellow squeals, while Pink swoons. Izuminokami gives himself a pat on the back. See, picking up all those lines from books and manga is worth it.

“Can we get a picture with you, please-please-please?” Pink begs, already pulling out her phone, which looks a lot sleeker and has much less cracks on the screen than Aruji’s. “And, like, your autograph or something? Sword warriors have autographs, right?”

Now is probably not the time to say he can’t possibly draw his sword crest on demand like this — not because he doesn’t know how to, obviously, but because… well, he’s a busy sword! He isn’t so privileged as to be one of those swords who do nothing but sit around and practice calligraphy all day! “Hmph. I don’t usually allow pictures,” he scoffs, flicking his hair over his shoulder and checking his reflection on the elevator wall to make sure it looks perfectly careless, “but alright, just this once — just for you.”

Pink looks dangerously close to actually fainting, her hand shaking too hard to hold her phone steady, so Yellow has to take the photo; Izuminokami checks to make sure Aruji and Kunihiro are in the frame as well, because he can’t have jealous teammates trying to sabotage him by ruining his clothes like what happened in the 63rd chapter of Kashuu’s manga… but to his surprise, Aruji and Kunihiro have already moved to stand in the opposite corner of the elevator. Kunihiro gives him a sheepish smile; Aruji doesn’t even look at him.

“Look here, Izuminokami,” Yellow coos, and Izuminokami dutifully gives the phone his best smolder.

The elevator doors slide open just as the camera goes off, and the two girls bounce out while Izuminokami and Kunihiro follow Aruji as they drag their feet along the carpet. “Our friends are gonna be sooo jealous,” Pink giggles, turning her phone this way and that before looking up at Izuminokami once more. “So, like, what’re you doing here, Izuminokami?” she asks. “As in, are you here to be our cousin’s bodyguard or something?”

As if. Kunihiro’s just here to clean up after them, and Izuminokami’s just here to… watch Kunihiro clean up after them. But he’s not going to say that. “Sure am.”

Yellow clasps her hands together. “Really? Seriously? Is it that dangerous being a saniwa?”

All Aruji does is stay in their room at the citadel and eat cup noodles while listening to their reports from the front lines. “Sure is. You wouldn’t believe it.” A flash of inspiration hits him, and he adds in a conspiratorial whisper, “You’ll never know when the History Retrograde Army will strike, after all. Our future selves will have to protect the history of everything we’re doing now… maybe even including this very conversation.”

Pink blushes bright enough for her cheeks to match her hair. “N-No way! Really? You mean the enemy might appear here in front of everyone?”

Izuminokami tosses his hair. “That’s right. So keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious. And if you run into trouble…” Now he gives them his best rakish grin. “You know who to call, eh?”

Kunihiro is polite enough to wait until the girls, red-faced and drunk on giggles, have scampered off to join their friends or relatives by a couch in the hallway before turning to give Izuminokami a deeply disappointed look. “Fear-mongering isn’t good, Kane-san.”

Izuminokami crosses his arms. “Who’s mongering fear? I’m just warning them of a very real possibility.”

“You should be glad they weren’t my niece,” Aruji says mildly. “She’s actually studying up for the saniwa certification exam, and she’d have pointed out there wasn’t any evacuation notice at least a week prior—”

“E-Enough! I get it! And didn’t you say your niece is a big fan of mine?” Izuminokami huffs. “She’d know better than to defy me.”

“Defy you? What are you, a warlord?”

Izuminokami decides to ignore them and turns on Kunihiro instead. “What was with you just then?” he demands. When Kunihiro has the nerve to look puzzled, Izuminokami adds, “You know, when you left me to be in that photo all alone! How am I supposed to look good without my partner, huh?”

“Ahh. Well, I don’t enjoy being in the spotlight as much as you do, Kane-san… and more importantly,” Kunihiro adds, looking amused, “they didn’t even notice I was there. I’d just get in the way.”

He doesn’t even sound annoyed about it, to Izuminokami’s irritation. He knows he’d be mad if he got completely ignored in favor of someone right next to him, but then again maybe that’s just because that’s how it’s always been for them, even in combat: Izuminokami is the big and flashy sword smithed by the prestigious Kanesada, meant to represent Hijikata’s status as vice-commander, while Kunihiro’s forte lies in assassinations under the cover of darkness. It was right; it was how it had always been; it was something he had never questioned.

So why does something about it ring false to Izuminokami now?

Aruji throws the doors to a familiar function room open, cutting Izuminokami’s thoughts off. “Alright, here we are. Now you can go out, load your plates up with as much food as possible, then come back here to get a table. Eat all you can for the next five hours, and we’ll meet again when it’s time for the reception.”

“Where are you going, Aruji-san?” Kunihiro asks, as Aruji dumps their handbag on the nearest chair. “If you want, I can come with you and—”

“Nope. I don’t need either of you seeing that damn photoshoot. Bye!”

Izuminokami waits until Aruji’s stormed out of the room before saying, “Let’s go watch.”

Kunihiro tries to keep a straight face, but the way the corners of his lips twitch up betrays him. “Let’s give Aruji a bit of privacy. Anyway, don’t you want to eat, Kane-san? We passed by all those food trays and vendors outside.”

“Wait, really?!” Izuminokami must have been truly distracted by Yellow and Pink to not notice food. “Well, alright, embarrassing Aruji can wait! Let’s go!”

Izuminokami’s standards for food have risen incredibly high for someone who couldn’t even eat until a few months ago, no thanks to Shokudaikiri and Kunihiro himself, so he’s genuinely surprised when the food is almost as good as what he’s used to: fried shrimp dumplings, spring rolls, steamed dim sum… The lemonade is just the right hit of sweet and sour, and there’s even a case of ice cream sticks thanks to some relative working for the manufacturer or whatever. Izuminokami devours everything in sight until he remembers they still have a free dinner after this and decides to save some space in his stomach for that.

It might also be because there are more guests coming in now, and the last thing he wants is to look uncool with chocolate cream on his chin. Or, worse, for Kunihiro to wipe it off for him. He sure hopes there’ll still be some ice cream left after the dinner, though.

“There, there! See, I wasn’t lying,” a shrill, vaguely familiar voice shouts, “it really is Izuminokami Kanesada, in the flesh!”

He looks up from his (last, he swears) plate of shrimp dumplings in time to see Yellow and Pink tugging a shorter girl along — her hair is a plain, wispy brown, but the shape of her eyes and nose instantly clue Izuminokami on who she must be. The same must go for Kunihiro, because he nudges Izuminokami’s elbow and says, “Could that be Aruji-san’s niece? She looks like she could be their little sister!”

“For real.” Izuminokami pops a dumpling in his mouth, wondering if Aruji had given the plush toy of himself to her yet. Then he lifts his hand in what he hopes is a very casual yet familiar wave. “Hey, it’s you girls.”

Pink goes pink, while Yellow giggles giddily and pushes Aruji’s niece before her. “Hi again, Izuminokami! Gosh, your name’s awful long. Would it be okay if we just call you Izumi?”

By some miracle Izuminokami manages to keep his confident smile in place. Sure, swords like them don’t care as much about societal standards like first-name usage — half the time their own saniwa gets confused about which of their names is meant to be their first and last one — and they are in a foreign country right now, but still! Surely there’s such a thing as being too familiar! Or should he be happy about this? Using each other’s first names is a sign of intimacy, isn’t it? And a cool, strong sword like him should like being intimate with the ladies… right?

Izuminokami is starting to think being such a cool, strong sword is more trouble than it’s worth. “Why not?” he says. It’s not like he’ll ever see these girls again anyway… hopefully. “Just as long as I get to call you by a nickname, too.”

“Ahaha! Izumi is so forward!”

That’s amazing coming from them. Izuminokami lets them tell him their names, but the foreign syllables go in one ear and right out the other, so he can only hope Kunihiro reminds him of them when necessary. Aruji’s niece is quiet when prompted to introduce herself, though, only staring at him.

Izuminokami decides to interpret this as her being so starstruck in the presence of her idol that she can’t even remember her name. “What are you looking at me like that for?” he teases, leaning forward to get a better look at her face. It’s impressive how similar she looks to their saniwa. “Could it be… you’ve been charmed by me?”

He expects her to react like Yellow, who starts hopping up and down in place, or like Pink, who seems to emit a squeal so high-pitched it breaks the sound barrier. He does not expect her gaze to drop down to his hand. “What’s that ring?”

“…Eh?”

She points at his brand-new ring, gleaming coolly under the lights. “This isn’t part of your usual outfit… is it? Did the saniwa give it to you? That’s crazy.”

“W-Whaaat? I didn’t even notice!” Yellow cries, as if wearing a ring on his ring finger is the end of the world. “Is it really our cousin? Wait a sec, doesn’t this mean another wedding’s coming up? Aw, man, do I have to buy another gown or can I just go with this one?”

“Wait!” Pink cries, pointing at — Kunihiro, to Izuminokami’s shock, since so far they’d given no indication they can even see him. “Look, he’s… he’s wearing… a matching one!”

Kunihiro blinks, holding a spring roll with his chopsticks. This unfortunately means his own ring is gleaming coolly under the lights as well, so attention-catching that it’s entirely possible Pink had seen the light reflecting off of it before Kunihiro himself. “No waaay, they really are matching!” Yellow says, bouncing over to sit beside Kunihiro, who looks bewildered at the sudden attention. “Does this mean you two are, like…?”

“Like…?” Kunihiro prompts, when Yellow only trails off.

Pink giggles. “He has a cute voice!” she says, instead of anything Izuminokami didn’t already know.

“No, wait. Don’t they look pretty similar?” Yellow suddenly says, stepping back to cross her arms and look between Izuminokami and Kunihiro, who exchange their own puzzled glances. “See, they’ve both got blue eyes. Maybe they’re just brothers. Are you guys brothers?”

Izuminokami briefly imagines being related to Kunihiro the way he’s related to Kasen, however distantly, and makes a face. “No way. We were used by the same master, but forged by different swordsmiths.”

Pink frowns. “Used by the same master?”

“Like, our cousin?” Yellow asks.

“No, their former master, Hijikata Toshizou. You know, from the Shinsengumi,” Aruji’s niece explains, when both Pink and Yellow just give her blank looks. “When they were still just swords, not sword warriors as you know them… um… never mind. Forget it. Anyway, they’re not brothers, okay? If you think about it, can sword warriors really be biological siblings with one another? They’re tsukumogami, not humans or even animals like us.”

“For a fan of yours, she doesn’t seem to idolize you all that much, Kane-san,” Kunihiro whispers.

“Shut it,” Izuminokami whispers back, though he privately agrees. Where’s the starstruck speechlessness from a while ago? And really, did she have to be so blunt with her words? It isn’t as if he particularly enjoys being reminded of his humanity, or lack thereof… though he’s not quite sure when and why he started disliking it.

“If you think Kane-san and I look alike, it might be because he was forged in my image,” Kunihiro speaks up, when Pink and Yellow still look confused. “Hijikata-san wanted an uchigatana that looked similar to his wakizashi, so we could be a pair. I’m actually several hundred years older than him, if you can believe it.”

“H-Hey, Kunihiro, no need to tell them that much.”

“Well, they look so curious. And it’s never too late to brush up on history lessons.” Kunihiro beams at them. “After all, maybe you’ll want to become saniwa in the future too!”

But they seem to have stopped listening after Kunihiro’s earlier words. “Forged in your image?” Pink slowly repeats, as if grappling with the concept. At first Izuminokami wonders if they’re having trouble connecting their real sword bodies to these human ones, but then Pink cries, “Then doesn’t that mean you are kind of like brothers? No, wait, would it be closer to father and son?”

Izuminokami chokes.

“Ohmygosh! You’re right!” Yellow, for some ungodly reason, agrees. “There’s even that huge age difference. Them getting married is, like, totally gross then! Sorry about that, Izumi, and… um, I didn’t catch your name. Kuni-something?”

“Horikawa is fine,” Kunihiro says, dazed. “What do you mean, us getting married is… gross…?”

“Uh… ’cause it’d be gross if a parent married their kid?” Yellow sounds like she barely stops herself from tacking on an obviously at the end.

“No, um, first of all, how did it even get to marriage—”

“They’re not father and son,” Aruji’s niece interrupts, exasperated. “You two are hopeless. How did you even reach that far? Just stick to rewatching the series next time.” Ignoring Pink and Yellow’s laughing and teasing that she shouldn’t be talking to her aunts that way, Aruji’s niece gives Izuminokami and Kunihiro a perfect, 90 degree bow and switches to formal, textbook-level Japanese. “I’m sorry for them. Um, I’m also sorry for bringing it up at all. Uh, um… c-congratulations… I think?”

Izuminokami doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kunihiro look this hopelessly, utterly lost. “Congratulations on… what?”

“Um.” She looks at them, then at their rings, then at them again — and then Izuminokami supposes the confusion on their faces tells her they have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about, because she gasps and steps back. “Oh! You don’t know!”

“Know… what?” Kunihiro gently but firmly asks.

“I-It doesn’t matter. If you didn’t know, then it probably isn’t…” She trails off, shakes her head, runs a hand through her hair. “Uhh. Um. Well, when people get married, they usually exchange rings.”

Izuminokami whirls on Kunihiro and gives him a look that Izuminokami hopes clearly conveys ‘you did not mention this while giving me the rundown on marriage earlier.’

Kunihiro, of course, just stares straight ahead as Aruji’s niece keeps talking. “Umm, and when we saw how you two match, we kind of jumped to conclusions… sorry about that. I-I was just curious! Izuminokami-san, you didn’t wear anything like that in Katsugeki, and it looks really nice, so it caught my attention…”

“Ohh!” So that’s why he’s so popular. For once Izuminokami decides to forget about how much he hates that stupid show and how he wasn’t even the same Izuminokami who starred in it and draws himself up, crossing his arms over his chest to proudly show off his ring. “Yeah, it’s a new thing! You like it, huh? Kunihiro and I bought it from somewhere here just yesterday.” Then he frowns down at it. “Though we didn’t know we’d be getting married because of it.”

“I-It’s not like that! It’s just that, well, when couples get engaged — oh, forget it,” Aruji’s niece groans, burying her bright-red face in her hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything… Don’t tell your saniwa…”

“There, there. It’s perfectly alright.” Kunihiro pats her back. “Actually, this is perfect. Kane-san and I aren’t all that well-versed on how human affairs like marriage works. What is it about rings that signify marriage?” He looks at Izuminokami’s ring, then down at his own. Not for the first time Izuminokami takes a moment to admire just how good Kunihiro’s ring looks on him, and together with his earrings, and definitely together with Izuminokami next to him.

“Huh? Are you seriously asking me?” Aruji’s niece mulls this over for a bit. “I don’t know if they signify anything… but I guess it’s because they’re, you know, round? Like, a circle, or a loop? It never ends. So I guess it’s a way to say your marriage will never end, or something…? T-This is so embarrassing. Can you just Google it?”

Izuminokami opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. Closes it.

“Kane-san?” Kunihiro looks up at him. “Something wrong?”

“Nnn…o?” His head hurts, like his brain is moving too fast for the rest of his system to keep up. A ring. A circle. A loop that never ends. A marriage that will never end. If a marriage is all about being with the person you love, then that means… a love that never ends…?

Before he can do anything more than space out, the room’s doors swing open and Aruji walks in, their exhausted gaze latching first on Izuminokami and Kunihiro and then on their niece. “Hey, there you are,” they greet, waving their niece over. “Interrogating my bodyguards already, are you? Come on, I got you the thing I promised.”

Apparently the promise of an Izuminoplushie is more appealing than Izuminokami himself, because Aruji’s niece barely spares them a bow and wave goodbye before skipping over to Aruji. Pink and Yellow, engrossed in their own conversation, wander away to join a different table.

For several long seconds, all Izuminokami and Kunihiro do is sit in silence.

“All that talking made me hungry again,” Izuminokami declares.

For once Kunihiro just follows him out of the room and back to the food trays instead of stopping him. Probably got hungry too.

“Aruji-san…” Kunihiro gives their saniwa a truly pitiful look. “Should you really be drinking on an empty stomach?”

“I ate,” Aruji grunts, voice muffled from where they’ve got their face planted on the dinner table.

Izuminokami waves Kunihiro away. “Leave ’em be, Kunihiro. If they want to get shit-faced before eight in the evening, then let them! They’re a grown saniwa, aren’t they?”

“Kane-san, you’re getting red.”

“You leave me be, too.” Izuminokami downs his glass and almost waves a waiter down to refill it, before remembering he’d promised good behavior today, and getting shit-faced before eight in the evening probably doesn’t belong in the Manual of Good Behavior. Also, it probably wouldn’t look cool, and there are a lot of people at this reception to look cool in front of. Thus, with tremendous self-control and discipline, Izuminokami just pushes the glass away to make space for his actual dinner plate.

Against his better judgment he glances aside to check Kunihiro’s reaction, and gnashes his teeth on reflex when Kunihiro’s disappointed look shifts into one of contentment. “Very good!”

“Shut it! I’m not a dog!”

The dinner has been uneventful so far, at least for anyone who aren’t the bride and groom — it’s mostly been a bunch of sentimental videos playing on the big screen while they cycle through the dinner courses. The bar had opened up a handful of minutes ago, and Aruji had jumped up from their seat as soon as they heard. “There’s going to be an after-party too,” they groan, when Kunihiro tries to stop them from refilling their glass. “I can’t be sober for that. It’s going to be awful.”

“After-party?” Kunihiro wonders. “A party after the party?”

“Yeah. Uhh… it’s gonna have lots of drinks. I think.”

Izuminokami sits up. “Then what are you whining about? We should go!”

Aruji shoots him a sharp look. “I don’t know… You can’t even handle a bit of sake. The stuff they’ll be serving will knock you right out.”

Before Izuminokami can argue against this, the third sentimental video of the night ends and the lights come back on, to the applause of the audience. What catches his attention, though, is when the bride and groom — sitting near the back, but visible from where he’s sitting — laugh, and the groom leans in to press his lips to the bride’s.

Izuminokami blinks. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Kunihiro asks.

“That guy just tried to eat his wife.”

Aruji chokes on their drink and bolts upright. “A kiss? Was it a kiss? Did he put his mouth on her mouth?”

“Whoa. Yeah, that’s exactly—”

Aruji smacks his shoulder with strength Izuminokami used to think they only reserved for hauling boxes of cup noodles into their room. “Nice job, Izuminokami-san! Okay, that makes two kisses so far. Hey, if they do it again, let me know. If we get the correct number of kisses by the end of the night, we can win a rice cooker.”

“Don’t we already have a rice cooker at the citadel, though?” Kunihiro asks.

“So? Are you going to pass up on free stuff?”

Izuminokami makes a noise. “What’s a kiss supposed to do?”

“Huh…? What it does?” Aruji frowns at him. “It doesn’t really do anything. It’s just what couples do. Like hand-holding and hugging.”

Izuminokami’s first thought is that he and Kunihiro have done those before, and they’d never made a big fuss about it. They hold hands when they need to keep close while in the middle of a thick crowd in the middle of the city, and they hug — or do something close to it — while sleeping at night, especially during colder months. In fact Izuminokami’s pretty sure they’d been hugging just last night, since they had to share the couch and Kunihiro was in danger of falling off the edge if he moved even slightly, so obviously as his partner Izuminokami had to wrap his arms around him and hold him secure. It’s not weird at all. He’d do the same for…

…Okay, he might not exactly do the same if it were, like, Aruji or any of the other Shinsengumi swords in Kunihiro’s place. But that’s because they’re all tall enough to just sleep on the floor like a man. Izuminokami’s only on this trip because Kunihiro can’t last three days without him, so really, this is just for Kunihiro’s survival. Really.

He glances aside again and is both pleased and embarrassed to see Kunihiro glancing at him too, because that just proves they were thinking the same thing. Once again against his better judgment Izuminokami looks down at Kunihiro’s mouth. What would it feel like to kiss him? No, more importantly, what purpose would kissing him serve? Maybe his lips are cold and need to be warmed up. Kashuu’s always trying to get Yamatonokami to use something called ‘lip balm’ so his lips aren’t so ‘dry and chapped,’ so maybe kissing is just like natural lip balm. Or something.

Mind made up, Izuminokami leans in.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa. Not here, you shameless swords,” Aruji interjects, pulling Kunihiro out of Izuminokami’s range. Izuminokami ends up losing his balance and would have toppled off his chair if Kunihiro didn’t hook his ankle around the leg of Izuminokami’s chair and pulled it forward to catch him in time. Everyday Izuminokami is reminded of just how effortlessly competent his partner is, down to — or maybe especially for — the smallest, stupidest things. “Save it for the bedroom. Or the living room, because I’m in the bedroom.”

“What was that for?!” Izuminokami sputters, shifting back on his chair until his ass is no longer on the literal edge. “I just wanted to try it! Kunihiro, you looked like you wanted to try it too, right?” Kunihiro gives him a dazed nod. “See! And the bride and groom get to do it in front of everyone, so why can’t we?”

“Ugh… it’s different,” Aruji mutters. “Also, everyone’s looking. There were already people asking me if the stuff in Katsugeki really happened and if I know the saniwa who starred there, so don’t give me a repeat of that time…”

“Katsugeki! Right! That dumb show’s the only reason those girls know who I am, isn’t it?” Izuminokami demands, barely restraining himself from smacking a fist on the table for emphasis. “And I bet it’s the only reason they didn’t care about Kunihiro either, right? They think he’s some newborn wakizashi who wants to change history ’cause of… of some hang-ups about Hijikata-san?!”

“Only you would summarize it as ‘some hang-ups,’” Kunihiro says, almost fondly, before shrugging. “Though I guess it’s true. Sometimes I feel a little guilty that I no longer miss him enough to change history for him.”

“O-Oi, don’t say that. Next thing you know, you’ll be joining the Shinsengumi undercover.” Which would be, like, really bad. In more ways than one, because Izuminokami had weird, disconcerting dreams about Kunihiro in the Shinsengumi uniform for several days after that episode premiered.

Kunihiro just smiles, not in a happy or amused or fond way but a small, sad way, like he wishes he could find the joke funny, or maybe like he wishes he actually did want to join the Shinsengumi undercover like the movie-star Kunihiro had, all for the sake of… what? In the end it hadn’t even been to save their former master, if Izuminokami remembers the series’ plot correctly: it had all been so he could get movie-star Hijikata (whose actor couldn’t get anywhere close to capturing the real Hijikata’s natural grace and charisma and… uh… coolness) to bring movie-star Izuminokami with him to his last battle in Hakodate.

…Stupid Kunihiro. As if Izuminokami cared that much about it. As if he hadn’t long since accepted his final duty as a sword of that era: to preserve not just Hijikata’s legacy but all the other proud samurai of that time, even if it meant being locked away behind a display case for the rest of his life.

Perhaps the worst part, though, is that Izuminokami thinks he understands, just a little bit. He’s served under Aruji for long enough now that he’s grown past his own, well, hang-ups about being sent home rather than be by Hijikata’s side in his last moments — because he’d at least had the privilege of being preserved, treasured, cared for. If he could do anything, anything at all to keep Kunihiro from being thrown into the ocean —

“Do you only have complaints about Horikawa-san’s characterization in the show? Not yours?” Aruji asks, startling Izuminokami out of his thoughts. “I mean, the way I see it, you were pretty—”

“Cool, right?” Izuminokami interrupts, puffing his chest out. “I mean, he’s not me, but he did a decent job as a first-time captain of a unit, eh? The way he convinced Hijikata-san to follow through with his original plan and send my sword body back to his hometown was so totally manly! And the last scene, when he and that Kunihiro ran to watch…” Izuminokami coughs. “When they ran to watch… Hijikata-san…” Izuminokami clears his throat. “Hijikata-san…”

Kunihiro pats his shoulder. “It’s okay, Kane-san. Let it all out.”

Aruji sighs. “Well, at least they got the ‘crybaby’ part right.”

Izuminokami sniffles in a very composed and dignified manner. “Anyway, who cares about that show,” he says. “We were talking about kissing. What’s so good about kissing anyway? Does it help in combat at all?”

Aruji gives him a confused look. “Don’t the characters in Kashuu’s manga kiss all the time?”

“Huh? No way. I’d’ve noticed.”

“Guess it’s that kind of slow-progress manga,” Aruji mutters. “Like I said, kissing doesn’t really do anything. I mean, I guess it could help with… some stuff… but if you’ve never wanted to kiss anyone, then you’re not the kind of person who’d need help with that stuff anyway…”

They devolve into unintelligible mumbles, leaving Izuminokami and Kunihiro to, for what feels like the tenth time that day, exchange bewildered glances. “Maybe it’s not that important, Kane-san,” Kunihiro offers. “We’ve held hands and hugged before, but never kissed, so it really must not help with… well, with whatever Aruji-san is talking about.”

“Okay, but how can we be sure about that?” Izuminokami returns. “It’s like thinking you don’t need burgers to live, but then you try a burger for the first time and suddenly you never want to eat anything ever again.”

“Absolutely do not have a burger-only diet,” Kunihiro sternly warns.

“I wasn’t saying that. Anyway, don’t you want to try it? Just to be sure?”

“I…” For some reason Kunihiro goes a faint pink. Izuminokami is hit with the strange, near-overwhelming urge to reach out and pinch his pink cheeks. “I guess?”

“Come on! It’s a yes or no question!”

“Okay, yes! I do! B-But like Aruji-san said, maybe we should do it later. Think about it,” Kunihiro adds, before Izuminokami can demand why they have to wait. “Today’s the couple’s big day, so it’s okay for them to kiss, but I bet someone as cool and attention-catching as you would steal the show if we started kissing, and that wouldn’t be good. You promised to behave, didn’t you?”

“…Uuuugh.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Whatever. Izuminokami is the peak of self-control and discipline anyway: a bit of waiting won’t kill him. But now his curiosity’s been piqued, and when he isn’t devouring whatever’s on his plate he watches the married couple from the corner of his eye, frowning when they don’t kiss again. Something about the action, useless as it seems, also makes it look much more intimate than holding hands or hugging. Maybe, he deduces, it’s the ultimate way to show love and affection. After all, it seems to be a privilege for married couples, so maybe it’s the ultimate proof of their unending love. Or something.

He looks down at his ring again, absently rubbing a finger over the band. Right. Unending love. His brain had been extremely close to making an extremely important connection back then, but now he can’t quite recover his train of thought.

Maybe talking aloud will help. “Kunihiro. Let’s go over the situation again.”

“The… situation?”

“What we know about marriage so far.” Izuminokami counts them off on his fingers. “Basically people get married when they love each other a whole lot, want to start a family, and want to cut costs.”

Kunihiro stares at him. “Your way of simplifying things is really… cool, Kane-san.”

“Were you about to say something else just now? Huh?”

Kunihiro ducks away from Izuminokami’s swat with a cheeky little grin, the one that makes Izuminokami want to keep trying and failing to swat him or ruffle his hair or pull him into a headlock just so Kunihiro will keep grinning cheekily up at him like that. Wakizashis and their cheeky grins. “I guess that’s one way to put it, though! Ah, and don’t forget the kissing.”

“The kissing.” As if Izuminokami could possibly forget the kissing.

“Yes. We’ve just learned they have to enjoy holding hands and hugging and kissing each other, too. I can only assume this goes under the ‘love each other a whole lot’ branch as a subsection.”

“Wait. Does the ‘exchanging rings’ part go under that one too?”

Kunihiro’s serious thinking expression has no right to look that cute. “I’m not sure… but I think so. It probably wouldn’t be wrong, at least.”

His head is starting to seriously hurt. “Okay. Alright. And earlier, we agreed we’d marry each other.”

“We certainly did.”

“Therefore,” Izuminokami declares, “we’re basically already married. Aren’t we?”

Kunihiro stares at him. And stares. And stares. And probably would have gone on staring if Izuminokami doesn’t get antsy enough to say, “Think about it! We already did everything married couples do! We checked every box off the list!”

“Except kissing,” Kunihiro says, his voice strangely tight.

“Yeah, yeah, but we’re going to do that later anyway, so let’s just count it as checked. Well? Aren’t I right?”

Kunihiro falls into a solemn silence. Then he asks, “What costs are we cutting?”

“…We, uh… That’s Aruji’s job. Don’t worry about it.”

Kunihiro falls into another, even more solemn silence. Then he looks up at Izuminokami. “Alright. We’re married,” he agrees. “So what?”

“Um.” Izuminokami hadn’t thought that far ahead. He had mostly been more concerned with actually proving they were married at all. “It… sounds nice?” he tries, then hurries to rectify: “I mean, cool. It sounds cool, right? We’re married. Totally married. More married than that couple. The most married in the world, even.”

“I didn’t know this was a competition.” Kunihiro looks up at him for a while longer, and for a second Izuminokami worries he’s done something wrong by declaring them married — what if it’s actually been a bad thing, this whole time? But that can’t be, because today’s supposed to be the best day in the world or whatever for the married couple, so…

Wait. Maybe Kunihiro wants a wedding. Shit, Izuminokami’s an idiot. Double shit, Izuminokami doesn’t want to handle a wedding. Well, maybe he can make an effort if it’s to make Kunihiro happy, but he doesn’t know the first thing about handling a wedding, and he bets Aruji would think it’s a pain. Maybe Kashuu could help. Surely there’s plenty of material in his manga to reference when handling a wedding —

“Oh, Kane-san! They kissed again!” Kunihiro exclaims, just before Izuminokami would have been sucked into the downward spiral of wedding planning. He turns in time to see the bride drawing back from the groom, a shy smile on her face. “That makes three now, right? Sheesh, Aruji-san should be the one keeping track, not us…”

Izuminokami looks around, only now realizing the seat next to Kunihiro is empty. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Went back to the bar for more drinks.” Kunihiro shakes his head.

Damn it, Izuminokami wants more drinks. When will this stupid dinner end? “Sure we can’t bring some back to our room to drink?” he grumbles. Only when the words have left his mouth does he realize that also gives them an excuse to be alone in their room, which means they get to try out kissing without Aruji telling them off for behaving or whatever. “Yeah, we should,” Izuminokami agrees with himself. “That’s a great idea. Let’s do that right now—”

“Wait, wait! Kane-san, we have to watch the couple, remember? If we get the kiss count right, we get a free rice cooker.”

“Who cares about a rice cooker! We already have one at home!”

Kunihiro sighs. “Just wait a little longer, okay? Besides, if we leave now, we won’t get to eat the rest of the dinner. There’s dessert at the end, you know. Don’t you want to try the mango tapioca?”

When Kunihiro uses the mango tapioca against him like that, there’s really nothing Izuminokami can do. He groans and gives his empty dinner plate his best glare, on the off chance this makes the next meal come faster. “This is such a pain. I just want to kiss you already.” Maybe it would have been better if he’d never come along on this trip. He’s learned about far too many things he’d previously been content being ignorant of. Then again, he also wouldn’t have gotten these matching rings with Kunihiro if he hadn’t come, so maybe that evens it out.

He glances up when Kunihiro doesn’t say anything and immediately gets a bad feeling at the thoughtful look on his face. “Now what? Don’t you dare say you’re changing your mind about kissing.” Not that Izuminokami would be devastated if Kunihiro said no, or anything. No way. It’s not even that big a deal. It’d just be ridiculous. Who wouldn’t want to kiss Izuminokami Kanesada?

“Nothing like that! I still want to,” Kunihiro clarifies. “I was just trying to think of… how we can get away for a little bit, actually.”

“…Oh?”

Kunihiro glances around, lowering his voice. “I mean, if we can’t kiss in front of others, couldn’t we just go somewhere without a lot of people? Like, you know, the restroom.”

Izuminokami stares at him, then says, “Kunihiro, you’re a genius.”

By some merciful god’s grace Aruji returns from the bar just a few minutes later, their gait surprisingly steady for someone who looks like they’ve already drunk their body’s weight in alcohol, and as soon as they sit back down Izuminokami springs up from his chair, grabbing Kunihiro’s wrist. “Aruji! Toilet!”

“Huh? Yeah, it’s great.”

“…I didn’t ask for your opinion of it! I meant we’re going there! Now!”

“Huh? Yeah, okay.”

“Maybe we should keep an eye on them after all,” Kunihiro whispers, even as he lets Izuminokami drag him towards the restrooms. “I’ve never seen Aruji-san drink a lot, so who knows what they might do…”

“They’ll be fine,” Izuminokami lies. He has absolutely zero faith their saniwa will be anywhere close to fine, but that’s not important right now. “Come on, Kunihiro, pick up the pace! Should I just carry you the whole way there?”

Thankfully the restrooms really are empty, otherwise Izuminokami would have bodily thrown anyone out from sheer impatience. Kunihiro locks the door behind them, then turns to face Izuminokami. “Okay. Let’s do this,” he says, as cheerily as if this were fieldwork or cooking duty. “Hmm… so we just need to press our mouths together, right?”

“Right.” Izuminokami glares down at Kunihiro. He’d been so excited earlier, but now he’s feeling… a different flavor of excitement. Not nervous. Izuminokami Kanesada does not get nervous. He’s just a little… no, Izuminokami Kanesada does not get unsure or uncertain either. But now that he’s actually standing here, actually about to do it, he has no idea where to start. Maybe there’s a certain technique to this stuff, or there’s a certain angle they have to kiss at, or —

“Kane-san?” Kunihiro blinks. “Ah, are you nervous? Then I’ll do it. If you could just bend down a bit—”

“What! No, I’m not nervous!” Izuminokami sputters. “Just stand still and give me a second! This — This is just like an art form, you know. Or like, a martial art. Before you begin training, you have to… collect your thoughts and… relax the mind, and…” He wracks his brain for anything else Kasen says on the daily, comes up blank, and says, “You know.”

“Oh, alright, alright. I know.” Kunihiro is very obviously trying not to smile. Because Izuminokami is as compassionate as he is cool, he doesn’t pinch Kunihiro’s cheeks as punishment.

He can do this. He wants to do this. He doesn’t really know why it’s so important he prove he and Kunihiro are just as married as the newlyweds, but it just is, so he’ll do it. Right now.

Izuminokami takes a deep breath, grabs Kunihiro’s shoulders, and leans in.

And reels back just as quickly with a pained yelp Kunihiro echoes. “K-Kane-san! Not that hard!” he exclaims, throwing a hand over his mouth. “Ow, ow… I’m going to feel that for a while.”

“Uh. Fuck.” Izuminokami’s own lips are tingling with unexpected pain as well, and he has a bad feeling they’re going to bruise soon. Worse than the pain, though, is the heat of embarrassment rising up to his face and threatening to set him on fire. He’d talked himself up like that just to totally and utterly fail at kissing? He literally cannot think of anything less cool right now! “M… My bad…”

Kunihiro peers up at him, then — to Izuminokami’s mortification — laughs. “It doesn’t hurt that much, Kane-san! Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s try again.”

“Uuurgh. No, no way. Maybe this isn’t — I mean, maybe I need to go… practice some more first, or…”

“Who exactly will you be practicing this with?”

“That’s… not important. Um. ’Scuse me, I gotta go—”

But Kunihiro remains in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest and the smallest of smirks on his face. “Kane-san, are you really going to run off and kiss someone else now?”

His tone is clearly teasing, but not enough for Izuminokami to know whether or not he should take him seriously. “Um,” Izuminokami repeats, hating that he sounds this pathetic after one failed attempt. In his defense, he hadn’t expected it to go that badly, and now Kunihiro’s probably making fun of him in his head, and maybe this means he doesn’t want to be married to Izuminokami anymore. Which would not just be seriously dumb but would also seriously suck. “Noooo…?”

“I thought so.” Kunihiro’s smirk softens into a smile. “Okay, my turn.”

“Your turn?”

“You tried once, so now it’s my turn. Bend down, please?”

Izuminokami is bending down before Kunihiro’s words have fully processed in his head. “Hah? Wait a second, that — that turn didn’t count. Let me have another—”

But Kunihiro cuts him off, and Izuminokami abruptly stops thinking.

For a moment he’s not entirely sure what he’s feeling. Lips on his, that’s for sure. Kunihiro’s lips on his, that’s also for sure. For another moment he has no idea what’s so good about this. It doesn’t have the same warmth and intimacy nor does it serve any practical purpose like hand-holding and hugging do. It’s not like his lips are particularly dry or chapped, so they don’t need ‘moisturizing’ or whatever Kashuu says.

Maybe Kunihiro’s lips are dry? Izuminokami moves his mouth against Kunihiro’s to check, which is when his brain shorts out.

Kunihiro reaches up to cup his face in his palms, tilting his head to slide their lips together; Izuminokami tries to grab Kunihiro’s shoulders again, partly to do something with his hands and partly to steady himself because his head is suddenly spinning, but he fumbles blindly and ends up grabbing Kunihiro’s waist instead. This turns out to be the single best mistake Izuminokami has ever made in his life because Kunihiro makes a very small, very soft sound, something between a gasp and sigh, and Izuminokami catches that very small, very soft sound in his mouth, feels Kunihiro’s warm breath across his lips and on his tongue.

Izuminokami was wrong. So wrong. So, so wrong. Kissing Kunihiro might just be the most essential activity in the world.

Part of him wants to press further, kiss harder, but he reins that urge in — the last thing he wants now is a repeat of earlier — only for Kunihiro to do it instead, one of his hands reaching around to grab a fistful of Izuminokami’s hair and pull him closer. Izuminokami isn’t even aware of whatever noise he’d made until Kunihiro draws back, just enough to meet his eyes, and murmur, “That was a nice sound just now, Kane-san…”

“S—” Izuminokami clears his throat. His voice had come out all weird and breathy just then. “Sound?”

“Yeah. Like this,” Kunihiro says, pulling on his hair again, but this time Izuminokami grits his teeth and only lets a pitiful wheeze escape him. “Ah, don’t hold back. Come on, let me hear it again?”

He leans in, but Izuminokami moves fast and slaps a hand over his stupid little mouth before he can attack him again. Kunihiro makes a stupid little whine against his palm. “I-It’s my turn now!” Izuminokami says, though adrenaline shoots his voice up to a shout. “Right? Me, you, me again!”

“Ohh. Right, right. Alright, Kane-san, kiss away.” Kunihiro leans back, giving Izuminokami a better view of his flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

Izuminokami is starting to feel light-headed all over again. How could a kiss make such a difference in physical appearance? Or, no, in physical state? Because that couldn’t have been more than a minute, and yet his face is on fire, his hands won’t stop shaking, and of course his heart is doing its best to beat right out of his chest. Not to mention how his scalp is still tingling a bit from Kunihiro’s frankly unfair attack on his hair. He hadn’t even known something like that could feel good! He doesn’t even know how exactly it feels good, since it had just kind of hurt! But, like, in a good way? Is Izuminokami going insane?

On impulse he reaches up and grabs the hair at the back of Kunihiro’s head, tugging with what he hopes was about the same amount of force Kunihiro used. Kunihiro startles but doesn’t flinch or wince with pain, letting Izuminokami pull his head back. “Does that feel good?” Izuminokami asks.

“Hmm. It doesn’t really feel like anything now.”

“Tch.” Izuminokami tries to see if he’s doing something wrong — use more force? grip more hair? — when he realizes something very important: this angle means Kunihiro’s neck is fully exposed.

Izuminokami already gets distracted by Kunihiro’s wrists and ankles and earlobes on the daily, purely because he doesn’t usually see the first two with how Kunihiro always wears things that cover him from chin to foot and the last one because they’re always catching the light, but until now he had yet to understand just how much more distracting Kunihiro’s neck is. He’s got a nice neck. When Izuminokami pulls his head to the side, his tendons stretch and stand out against his skin, and the collar of his dress shirt slips just slightly, revealing…

Izuminokami stares. Has that beauty mark right on the junction between neck and shoulder always been there?

For some reason that tiny spot is making him furious. That he had been unaware of its existence until this very moment is unforgivable. What else about his body is Kunihiro hiding from him? As partners, aren’t they supposed to share everything with the other? As punishment, Izuminokami bends down and attacks the beauty mark with a kiss.

Kunihiro jolts, his hands flying up to grip Izuminokami’s arms. “K-Kane-san, what are you…”

“I never knew about this until right now,” Izuminokami snarls, instead of, Would kissing also feel good with different body parts? “What’s with that, huh? You hiding this from me?” He kisses the beauty mark again, harder this time, and only succeeds in pushing a laughing Kunihiro back against the door. On another impulse he tries to bite down on it, but his teeth only graze against warm skin before Kunihiro’s laugh suddenly shifts into a startled, stuttered gasp, not unlike the sound he’d made earlier when Izuminokami held his waist.

“…Did that feel good?” Izuminokami asks again, glancing up to meet Kunihiro’s gaze. The bright blue of his eyes is much darker now, the sky over a stormy sea.

Kunihiro nods, very slowly.

Teeth feel good. Izuminokami makes a mental note of that, swears he won’t forget it like the thousand other mental notes he’s made of far less important details, and bites down on the spot again: not hard enough to draw blood, just hard enough to draw out one of those little sounds from Kunihiro once more. If teeth feel good, then wouldn’t tongue also feel good? Izuminokami tentatively licks along where he’d bitten and feels Kunihiro shudder beneath him, murmuring, “Kane-san…”

This is bad. At this rate Izuminokami could just go on nibbling on Kunihiro forever, like when he’s trying to savor the last cookie from a batch, except this cookie is at least ten times more addicting. He pulls the collar of Kunihiro’s dress shirt away — then pulls harder when it staunchly refuses to reveal more of Kunihiro’s bare skin — then yowls when his third pull is rewarded with a button flying off to hit him in the face.

“Kane-san!” Kunihiro sounds like he can’t decide between laughing or crying. “Are you okay? It didn’t get your eye, right?”

“I’m going to rip your stupid shirt to stupid shreds!”

“We can save that for later,” Kunihiro says, so smoothly Izuminokami suddenly doesn’t care about the mild sting on his face anymore. “For now… it’s my turn again, right?” He tightens his grip on Izuminokami’s arms, nails digging into the fabric of his suit jacket, and tugs him down to kiss him again — on the lips, slowly, almost softly, and Izuminokami relaxes into the now-familiar feeling…

Until Kunihiro, like the sneaky little wakizashi he is, bites down on his lower lip.

Izuminokami makes a pathetic mmph?! of surprise, but Kunihiro catches him with an arm around his back before he can startle away. His tongue flicks across Izuminokami’s lips, quick and teasing, before pushing into his mouth — and Izuminokami is not proud of the noise he makes next, which is somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. How can someone else’s tongue in his mouth possibly even feel this good? He tries to move, to reciprocate, to do literally anything, but Kunihiro wraps his arms around his neck and tangles his hands in his hair, and Izuminokami melts like the most useless popsicle of all time.

“Kane-san, you’re too tall,” Kunihiro whispers, drawing back just enough to speak; his voice is much lower than usual, and it sends a shudder down Izuminokami’s spine. “I can’t kiss your neck like this…”

Izuminokami thinks about Kunihiro kissing his neck and feels his legs go disgustingly wobbly. “O… Our room,” he chokes out, too overwhelmed to even be embarrassed at how his voice is at least two pitches higher than usual. “We can. Lie down. Or something.” Izuminokami thinks about lying down with Kunihiro on top of him, kissing his neck, and feels legitimately close to collapsing entirely.

“That,” Kunihiro says, “is the single best idea you’ve ever had. Do you think Aruji-san will miss us?”

“Can we forget about that guy for one minute,” Izuminokami very nearly pleads.

Apparently that’s hilarious because Kunihiro tries and fails to stifle a laugh; normally this would just be cute and endearing and tests Izuminokami’s self-control to keep from pinching his cheeks, but right now, with them pressed up against each other like this, Izuminokami has the privilege of feeling Kunihiro’s body shake against his. Izuminokami closes his eyes and briefly prays for spiritual strength and guidance.

“Okay, okay — sorry, but we shouldn’t,” Kunihiro says, to Izuminokami’s shock. “We’re only on this trip because we have to watch over them, remember? Let’s at least wait until the dinner is over.”

“Are you kidding me?” Izuminokami groans, wrapping Kunihiro up in his arms before he can do something really evil, like open the door and walk away. “How much longer will that take? We’re gonna waste time sitting around when we could be doing something actually important?”

“There, there. It’s not so bad. Just think of it as training.”

“Training what?”

Kunihiro gets up on his tiptoes and kisses him again, soft and chaste and far too quickly; Izuminokami leans in on instinct, chasing Kunihiro’s lips, only for Kunihiro to step back and tilt his head away. “Training your self-control and discipline,” he says, the stern tone in his voice offset by that cruel little smirk on his face. “It can’t be that hard for someone like you, right, Kane-san?”

“You… Youuu…” Izuminokami grabs him by the waist and pulls him up for another furious kiss, and is completely unsurprised when Kunihiro only gives a token struggle before laughing into his mouth. Why does he have to rile Izuminokami up like this when he presumably wants to do nothing but kiss for the next 24 hours as well? “You’re the worst. The absolute worst. You’re not just evil, you’re so… you’re all…” Izuminokami gives in to his base desires and pinches Kunihiro’s cheeks. “Kissable.”

“Thank you? I think?”

“The worst,” Izuminokami repeats, just in case Kunihiro hadn’t heard him the first three times. He leans down and kisses him again, and again, and then he realizes with the button out of the picture he can tug Kunihiro’s shirt collar much further down now — Izuminokami bites a trail of kisses down Kunihiro’s neck, filing away each of Kunihiro’s small sighs and gasps to pore over later, until he can dig his teeth against the jut of his collarbone.

The way Kunihiro sucks a breath in through his gritted teeth, hissing “Kane-san,” and grips onto his arm tight enough to hurt is beyond satisfying.

“And you wanted to stop,” Izuminokami reminds him, flicking his tongue over the spot he’d bitten: it’s already blooming bright red, and he dearly hopes Kunihiro doesn’t have to go for repairs anytime soon. “Bet you feel pretty dumb right now.” Can he go lower? How much lower can he get? Izuminokami tries to pop another button open but can’t pull himself away from Kunihiro’s evil, alluring collarbone long enough to exert enough force.

For a moment he thinks about lying on top of Kunihiro, kissing his neck, and has to brace himself with a flat palm on the door behind Kunihiro to keep his balance. So many things to try, so much of Kunihiro to explore. Why had it taken them this long to find out about kissing? Izuminokami feels like he’s wasted the past several months not kissing Kunihiro. They should have kissed as soon as he first manifested in the citadel —

The door swings open.

Izuminokami falls forward, but thankfully catches himself on the doorframe — he would have caught Kunihiro with an arm around his back too if Kunihiro hadn’t caught himself first. More accurately, he spins around and draws his sword body at the hapless security guard standing before him.

“Ah! Geez, that was close.” Kunihiro sheathes his sword and gives the guard — and a pair of men standing behind him — a polite bow. “Sorry about that. We’ve been on the lookout for the History Retrograde Army’s forces.”

Izuminokami chokes.

Kunihiro must have seriously worked some kind of spell just then, because the two men gasp while the security guard’s eyes go wide. “The enemy? Here? Wouldn’t the Government have sent an emergency alert if so?”

“That’s standard protocol, yes. But if there are sword warriors currently on the scene, they try to inform us in confidentiality in order to prevent mass panic. So don’t worry about it!” Kunihiro clasps his hands behind his back and gives them his trademark smile. “And if you could please keep quiet about this to the other guests too, that’d be great.”

The guard squints, peering into the restroom as if to catch a hint of the History Retrograde Army in the toilet stalls, but nods and steps back. “Is, uh… Is it all clear in there, at least?” one of the men behind him speaks up. “We’ve been waiting forever to go in.”

“Oh, yeah! Just fine. Sorry for the wait! We just really wanted to make sure it was safe.” Kunihiro steps aside, tugging Izuminokami along with him, and bows again as the men head inside, both of them turning this way and that in obvious apprehension. When the security guard turns away, muttering into a device in his hand, Kunihiro grabs Izuminokami’s wrist and drags him back to the dinner reception.

Izuminokami barely lasts five seconds before collapsing into laughter.

“Don’t,” Kunihiro whispers.

“Fear-mongering isn’t good, Kunihiro,” Izuminokami says, pitching his voice as annoyingly high as it can go. “There would’ve been an emergency notice about it, Kunihiro. What happened to that, eh? Eh?”

Kunihiro is red all the way to the tips of his ears. “Who’s mongering fear? I’m just warning them of a very real possibility,” he shoots back, and Izuminokami can’t help himself from leaning in and kissing the dumb embarrassed grin on his face — Kunihiro startles and pushes him away, but not enough for Izuminokami to do more than step back. “C-Come on, Kane-san! We said not around others, right?”

Izuminokami scowls. “Who came up with that rule again?”

“You agreed to it. Just hold on.” Kunihiro fixes Izuminokami’s crooked tie, then gives his hair a quick finger-comb. “Hmm, I should’ve asked Aruji-san to bring a hairbrush along… but I guess you still look as cool as always.”

“You guess?” Izuminokami huffs, then frowns. “Wait. Your shirt.”

“Hm?” Kunihiro looks down at his shirt — and blinks. “Ah.”

Right. They’d both forgotten how Izuminokami had pulled a button off. In the heat of the moment they couldn’t have cared less, and if anything Izuminokami would have gladly pulled the rest of them off if it meant getting to kiss his way down Kunihiro’s chest and stomach, but now — well.

“At least it’s the very first one,” Izuminokami points out, when Kunihiro just goes on staring at his collar like the wrinkles on it are personally offending him. “You buttoning all the way to the top is dumb anyway. Stop looking like that,” he groans, reaching out to straighten Kunihiro’s collar for him, since apparently he’s too torn up over losing a button to do it himself. “Look! It’s not that bad! You might even look better this way! Having the top button undone is all, y’know. Cool and rugged.”

“Cool and rugged,” Kunihiro echoes, then shakes his head. “I’m not that sad about losing a button. It’s just that, well…” He tugs at the collar slightly, and — oh. “This is going to be a bit… obvious.”

Izuminokami spends several long seconds staring at the dark red spot on Kunihiro’s collarbone.

“…Kane-san?” Kunihiro pulls his collar back up, securing it in place as best as he can with his suit jacket. “It’s a little embarrassing, but no big deal. Anyway, come on. The sooner we get back to Aruji-san, the sooner—”

“—we can get back to our stupid room and we can go back to kissing,” Izuminokami finishes, stalking back towards their dinner table with Aruji. “I got it, I got it! Damn it, I can’t wait for this to be over!”

Getting a taste of what kissing Kunihiro feels like is somehow worse than not having kissed him at all. Izuminokami hasn’t been able to focus on a single thing for the past hour or so, from Aruji getting more drinks to the lights dimming as the fifth sentimental video of the night plays to Pink and Yellow dropping by their table to start a conversation Izuminokami hadn’t even tried engaging in, much as he wanted to — or told himself he wanted to, anyway.

“It’s a sword warrior thing,” Kunihiro ‘explained,’ when Pink and Yellow expressed concern at Izuminokami’s brooding. Or at least that was what they did. Izuminokami was only about 45 percent sure about what they were saying. “It’s, um… similar to… meditation. Yep.”

Dessert — the promised mango tapioca — does briefly reanimate Izuminokami, and he cleans off both his and Aruji’s bowls, since Aruji has apparently fallen asleep halfway through their third bottle and refuses to wake up. But even cold, blissful sweetness isn’t enough to completely distract Izuminokami from Kunihiro.

He thought he could control himself when it came to wanting to be closer to Kunihiro. He thought ‘biological reactions’ were like small, minor injuries that were troublesome at first but healed over in time, with or without repairs. At worst, he could always fill up on his Kunihiro quota by being around him more often; on days when neither of them had to go on sorties, it was easy enough to stay by his side, even if it was just to try (and fail) to make him skip field duty. It hadn’t been enough, but it sated the strange urge to be close to Kunihiro. For the time being.

Now Izuminokami knows he had deeply underestimated how truly lethal these biological reactions could be.

It’s as if kissing Kunihiro has turned all the dials for these urges to the highest setting. How had Izuminokami ever been satisfied with anything less than kissing? How is he going to function normally now that it’s all he can ever think about from now on? Is this how all married couples are like, kissing all over the place because they just can’t keep themselves off each other? If so, Izuminokami completely understands. If he, the coolest and strongest of tsukumogamis, can barely hold himself back from kissing Kunihiro right here and now, then he has no idea how humans put up with it.

“Kane-san?” Kunihiro rests a hand on his arm, like that isn’t the single best — worst — best-worst thing to happen to Izuminokami in the past hour. “Are you… alright? Did you maybe drink too much?”

“Are you crazy. Of course not.” Izuminokami hasn’t had a damn sip since that first glass ages and ages ago. Because he’d promised to be on his best behavior. And for what? Is he even getting any kisses for that? This is ridiculous and unfair and probably all part of some evil plan Kunihiro’s cooked up to torture him, specifically.

“Then why do you look like you’re… ah.” Kunihiro’s expression grows solemn. “Did you maybe eat too much mango tapioca? Does your stomach feel strange?”

Izuminokami feels this close to popping a blood vessel. “I’m fine! Fine! I just…” really want to kiss you again, he nearly says, before deciding that’s just a bit too embarrassing to shout aloud. But if he’s this distressed over it, shouldn’t Kunihiro feel the same? He glares at Kunihiro’s stupidly cute face, searching for a sign he knows exactly how Izuminokami feels.

Kunihiro just blinks at him.

…Is this for real? Could it be that while Izuminokami is losing his mind over this, Kunihiro is completely unaffected? Does this mean Kunihiro… doesn’t want to kiss him after all? Wait, is that even possible? He had been totally into it when they were at the restroom, right? So why does he look like he can’t care less right now?!

“Kane-san?” Kunihiro repeats, sounding a little worried now. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Izuminokami opens his mouth and very nearly blurts out Do you want to kiss me or not? before he thinks better of it. Slow down. Think clearly. There’s no way Kunihiro wouldn’t want to kiss him, not after he’d made all those cute little noises earlier and let Izuminokami bite a bruise onto his skin. But what if he changed his mind in the past hour? That’s not completely impossible right? Maybe he’s already bored and wants to find someone else to kiss. Shit. That’s totally possible. That’s the worst possible thing that could possibly happen.

There’s only one thing left to do. Izuminokami —

— narrowly avoids getting smashed in the chin when Aruji stands up, throwing their arms in the air. “It’s over! Let’s go!” they cheer, voice nearly drowned out by the rest of the guests standing up from their seats and chattering amongst each other. “Come on, come ooon, it’s after-party time! Horikawa-saaan, Izuminokami-saaan, you both wanna come too, right? Right?”

“Huh? A-Aruji-san, are you oka—”

“Right!” Izuminokami shouts back, standing up as well and hauling a flustered Kunihiro up with him. “Let’s do this, Aruji! We’ll drink the night away!”

“Thaaat’s the spirit, Izuminokami-san! You’re a real one!”

“Of course I am! Whatever that means!”

“Um. I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kunihiro says, but there’s not much he can do when Aruji is pulling him along with one wrist while Izuminokami takes the other. His face goes through a series of expressions Izuminokami has taken to calling the five stages of Kunihiro before he settles on a familiar resigned frown. “Oh, well… go ahead, Aruji-san. Let loose for tonight. As for you, Kane-san…”

Izuminokami expertly tunes out whatever he says next. There’s just no way he can handle these biological reactions for Kunihiro right now, nor does he want to find out what Kunihiro might say if Izuminokami asks about kissing.

But if there’s one thing he can do in this godforsaken party, it’s drink. He came all the way here and has learned things no sword warrior back at the citadel has had to endure; he might as well milk all the free drinks this party has to offer.

An hour and a half later, Izuminokami Kanesada lies face-down on a table.

“I told you this would happen.” Kunihiro’s voice swims in and out of clarity. “I told you. Well, what did I expect… Come on, Aruji-san’s pretty out of it too. Let’s get you two back now, or else you’re going to have a really bad time on the flight tomorrow.”

Izuminokami responds to all of this with a very intelligent “Hnuungh.”

Kunihiro sighs — and okay, alright, he’s a lot closer than Izuminokami thought, because his breath ruffles the hair right above Izuminokami’s ear, the warmth of it trickling down to the back of his neck. “How am I going to do this… Can you stand up, at least?”

“Hmmmph.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

This is impossible. How can Izuminokami possibly think about anything, including the motions and effort needed to stand up, when Kunihiro is right there and breathing into his ear like a… a… wakizashi? “Kunihirooo.”

“Yes, Kane-san.”

“I… gotta…” kiss you right now, like right now, like right noooowww… “Toilet…”

Kunihiro sighs again. Izuminokami barely suppresses a shiver — he has got to be doing that on purpose. “Okay. And then we’ll go back to our room. So can you stand and walk, or do I have to—”

Izuminokami springs up from his chair, instantly regrets it when he feels ready to retch, but miraculously remains on his feet. “I can go! I can go.” There’s no way he can go. The world is spinning and Izuminokami is pretty sure he’s going to find himself head-first in the toilet like this, but there’s also no way he’s going to let Kunihiro carry him to the restroom. He’s cooler than that. He’s going to walk to the restroom on his own so coolly, Kunihiro will simply have no choice but to be charmed by his coolness and go back to wanting to kiss him and no one else.

That thought sobers him up fast. Izuminokami has never focused so hard on putting one foot in front of the other until now.

By some miracle he makes it to the restroom in one piece, and after using the toilet he washes his face three times in as many minutes, bracing himself against the sink counter afterwards to watch water drip from the ends of his hair. Wet hair can be cool too, right? Swords like Ookurikara always look pretty cool when they come in the citadel all drenched because they sheltered a stray cat from the rain with their body.

Maybe Kunihiro will want to kiss him if he’s got wet hair. Izuminokami nearly sticks his entire head under the faucet before the sounds of someone retching snap him out of his daze. Right. He’s not that far gone yet. And it probably wouldn’t feel good for Kunihiro to have water dripping onto his face while they kiss.

Izuminokami sniffs, then smacks his cheeks. He wants to kiss Kunihiro so bad. Like, so bad. He can do this! He’s got plenty of alcohol on his side now! He can kiss Kunihiro and then ask if he still wants to… No, wait, it’s the other way around. First he should ask Kunihiro if he still wants to kiss him, and then kiss him… No, wait, that’s only if Kunihiro says yes. But obviously he will. He will. Izuminokami has to believe that, or else he’s never making it out of this restroom.

He glares at his reflection in the mirror. “You’re a real one, Izuminokami,” he tells himself.

Someone groans, then retches again. Izuminokami heads out of there before he can take that as a sign.

Unfortunately, he had neglected something very important, which was to look around and remember just where he had left Kunihiro waiting. Izuminokami takes three steps out of the restroom before falling still, staring stupidly out at the bar, squinting out at the throng of dancing bodies and flashing lights to catch a glimpse of black hair or blue eyes. No luck — he can barely see anything past the two tables in front of him. It would probably be insanely uncool to call out for Kunihiro here like a lost tantou, right? Maybe he can just feel his way through…

“Hey, heeey,” someone suddenly calls, fingers brushing against his wrist, “aren’t you that sword guy everyone’s talkin’ about?”

Izuminokami very nearly panics and throws their hand off, which he might actually have done if not for how someone else hooks their arm around his other one. “Yeah, he is! Look, he’s got his sword and everything.”

“Hm…?” Izuminokami blinks. They’re two unfamiliar women, definitely neither Pink nor Yellow, and dressed in clothes that show an admirable amount of skin. For some inane reason his first thought is that they could never go out on the battlefield like that; the enemy would find a hundred different ways to target their weakest spots before they could even draw their weapons. “Yeah. That’s me. A sword warrior,” he finally manages. His head still feels too heavy for his neck, but charm comes naturally to a sword like him, and he draws himself up with his most confident smile. “Something you need, ladies?”

They giggle and titter, and now the first woman’s got her arm around his as well. Izuminokami tries not to feel like a cornered prey animal. “Nah, we’ve just been, like, so curious? ’Cause everyone’s been going on about the sword guys one of our cousins brought along, but we didn’t get to actually see you ’til now.”

The second woman rests her chin on his shoulder. “Sooo, how’s it been, sword… warrior?” She laughs, but Izuminokami’s not sure what the joke is. “Any of the enemy forces in this country?”

Izuminokami smirks. “Heh, you wouldn’t believe it. My partner and I have been investigating non-stop since we got some top-secret reports about sightings of the enemy around here.” They gasp on cue, and Izuminokami has never been more grateful Kunihiro isn’t around to give him one of his long-suffering looks. “Not to worry, though, it’s all been taken care of.”

“Whaaat, so you mean there really were bad guys in here? No way!”

“That’s so scary!” They cling tighter to his arms. “Geez, and here we thought you were just our cousin’s date or something. Good thing they brought you after all!”

First Pink and Yellow, and now these two women. Aruji sure has a varied range of cousins. “Yeah, well.” Izuminokami frowns. “Couldn’t have done it without my—”

“So if it’s all clear, then you don’t have any plans tonight, right?” the first woman asks, pressing her cheek to his bicep. Izuminokami tries and probably fails not to freeze up in a mix of surprise and discomfort. “I’m free for the rest of the night, too. And this party’s, like, a total bore… My place isn’t too far from here. How about we go there, just the two of us?”

“Hey! No fair, I want to hang out with him too!” the second woman protests, tugging on Izuminokami’s arm with surprising force. “Don’t listen to her, sweetie. I got a room at the hotel, so we don’t gotta get a taxi or even walk for long. And while we’re there, maybe you can… show me the sword you’re so proud of?” She hides a giggle behind her perfectly-manicured hand.

Izuminokami doesn’t even get to say he can show them both his sword body right now if they really want to see it when the first woman pulls on his other arm. “Come on, don’t steal him away! I just had the worst break-up with my boyfriend, you know!”

“Ugh, so? Don’t think you can get Mr. Sword Warrior here to feel sorry for you.”

“You always play dirty like this. Hey, come on,” the first woman says, pouting up at Izuminokami, “let’s go home together, yeah? I’ll show you a good time while you’re on vacation.”

“Well, I’m not really on v—”

“Y’know, her boyfriend left her for a reason?” The second woman rubs up against his arm. Izuminokami feels something soft squish against his elbow and desperately hopes that had just been his imagination. “Come with me, handsome. We can play some games too, if you like…”

Izuminokami furiously wracks his head for literally anything to say, but the alcohol coupled with this inane situation really isn’t helping. Worse still is that the first and only thing he can think about is what happened in the 189th chapter of Kashuu’s manga, where the sleazy guy whose hair reminded Izuminokami a bit of Akashi Kuniyuki wrapped his arms around the shoulders of both girls and said something like “ladies, ladies, there’s plenty of me to go around!” But that might just make things worse, because after that it cut back to the main characters until the 195th chapter, where Akashi — er, the sleazy guy returned just so the women could beat him up. So while Izuminokami doesn’t think he’s ever coming back here and seeing these women again, he has no desire to risk it either way.

Maybe he should pull a Kunihiro and pretend he’s just been called for an emergency sortie after all. Izuminokami clears his throat and prepares to spout nonsense —

“Kane-san? What are you doing?”

— and practically cries “Kunihiro!” instead. If he sounds beyond relieved, that’s no one’s business but his own. When the two women shoot him puzzled looks, Izuminokami puffs his chest out and explains, “There he is! That’s the partner I was telling you about!”

“Uh…” The first woman gives him a slow, up-down look.

The second woman’s lips thin in some mix between disappointment and disapproval. “Huh.”

“…What’s with that?”

Kunihiro looks between all three of them, before his confused expression shifts into — irritation? — and he shakes his head. “Honestly. I was worried because you were taking so long to get back, but it seems you were having fun on your own after all… Should I leave you here and go back with just Aruji-san?”

“Hah?! Now hold on a second!” Izuminokami sputters, finally finding the strength to wrench his arms out of the women’s grips and scramble over to Kunihiro’s side. “I didn’t take that long, did I? I just got held up a bit! We can go back now!”

“Hmm, really? You sure you wouldn’t rather be with your new friends?”

“What’s up with you? As if!”

“Wait, really?” one of the women — without them on either side of him Izuminokami can no longer tell them apart — whines, coming up to clutch his hand. “You’re leaving already? But… are you sure you don’t want to come back with me? I thought you said you were free now.”

Izuminokami had said nothing of the sort, but even he knows enough to keep from being pointedly rude. He opens his mouth to very coolly turn her down, only for the other woman to join her side, hands clasped behind her back and chest thrust out before her. “Come on, it’s just for one night,” she pleads, blinking big brown eyes up at him. “When’s the last time you got to have a good time in between all your, um… super-important duties as a sword warrior, huh?”

“Uh…” Izuminokami clears his throat. “No, uh, sorry, I really gotta get going…”

“Aww, really? Are you sure? It’s just for one night!”

“Please? When’s the next time you’ll get to come back here?”

“I… really…” Why is this so hard? No, more like, why won’t they give up?! Izuminokami already said no! He shoots Kunihiro a look that is partly ‘why are they so insistent’ and partly ‘please do something and get us out of here!’ He can probably come up with a more convincing story that doesn’t fall back on pretending the History Retrograde Army will show up around here, after all.

Kunihiro meets Izuminokami’s gaze before nodding and turning to the women. “I’m sorry. We really do have to be going,” he says, in a tone so sincerely conciliatory yet apologetic that the women look both taken aback and guilty at once. “Maybe next time. But I think,” Kunihiro adds, suddenly reaching out to place his hand atop Izuminokami’s, startling the woman who had taken his hand, “you should be more careful about who you… solicit. See?”

Izuminokami mouths solicit to himself and nearly misses the twin gasps of shock the women make as they step back. “Oh! I… I didn’t even notice!”

“I-I thought it was just some jewelry…!”

“Uh, what?” Izuminokami blinks at the women, who now look genuinely contrite. “Kunihiro, what’s with ’em? They’re acting like you pulled your sword on them.”

Kunihiro ignores him, just grips his wrist to tug him away while waving goodbye to the women with his other hand. “I’m surprised it didn’t occur to you, Kane-san,” he says once they’re a safe distance away from the women. At Izuminokami’s doubtless bewildered look, Kunihiro adds, “You know… to tell them you’re married.”

“…What?”

“Did you forget already?” Kunihiro lifts his wrist up to press their hands together — the hands with the rings on them. They look twice as gorgeous under the bar’s lights, and four times as dazzling when side-by-side like this. “Humans exchange rings when they’re married, right? So you could have just pretended yours is a wedding ring.”

Izuminokami stares at him for so long that Kunihiro frowns and calls his name again, twice. But even his voice falls out of focus in Izuminokami’s hearing, because everything finally falls into place: marriage, rings, circles, loops. Unending love.

He grabs Kunihiro by the shoulders and yanks him into a kiss.

He barely registers the startled yelp Kunihiro makes against his mouth, nor the cheers and wolf-whistles around them — he focuses purely on kissing Kunihiro for as long as he can until they both have to pull back for breath. Kunihiro looks delightfully breathless, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed again while he holds loosely onto the front of Izuminokami’s shirt. “K… Kane…-san?” he stammers. “What was that for? And, mgh, how much did you drink…?”

“Kunihiro.” Izuminokami bumps their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Kunihiro goes a brilliant shade of red.

“I’m serious. Like, seriously serious,” Izuminokami says, aware he’s slurring his words and unable to care. He’s never needed to say anything more important before, and it is imperative he make Kunihiro understand what he just understood himself. “Like, I… I must’ve loved you even before — before these human bodies. I must’ve loved you from the second we met as Hijikata-san’s swords. You know? I — I was made for you. Literally!”

“Get ’im, bro!” someone yells.

Kunihiro looks red enough to burst into flames. “K-Kane-san, this is very nice and all, but can’t it—”

“No, no, it can’t wait,” Izuminokami insists, shaking him by the shoulders. Kunihiro flops back and forth more limply than usual. “Just — Just listen. I’ve loved you from the very start, right.” He graciously ignores the pathetic squeak Kunihiro makes at that. “But… But when Hijikata-san sent me back, and I couldn’t do anything, for either you or him…”

His hands tremble just thinking about it. Those had been some of the worst days — weeks, months, years — of his life, separated from the only people he had ever known in his still-short life, all alone despite being in the care of Hijikata’s family. On one hand he was grateful he had been loved enough to be preserved and treasured well into the present time — but on the other hand he had no way of knowing what had happened to Hijikata and Kunihiro until it was far, far too late.

Behind closed doors or glass cases, Izuminokami could no longer see the blue skies the Shinsengumi had so proudly worn over their shoulders. His own haori, dulled with age, was nigh-unbearable to look at.

“Kane-san.” Kunihiro closes his hands over Izuminokami’s — and Izuminokami must be really losing it, because just feeling how much smaller Kunihiro’s hands are compared to his is making him tear up. “That wasn’t your fault. It was Hijikata-san’s choice.”

Izuminokami shakes his head. “No, I mean — yeah, it happened, and yeah, we couldn’t do anything about it — but! You see! Even when all that happened and I thought I’d never see you again — we came back! In these bodies!” He waits for Kunihiro to nod, very slowly, before continuing: “Don’t you get it? We got a second chance. We — We came back. Like. Like a loop. A circle.” He holds their clasped hands up together. “Like rings.”

Kunihiro’s mouth falls open.

“See. See. You get it.” Izuminokami releases Kunihiro’s hands, but purely so he can start counting on his hands again — or he tries, anyway. His fingers feel less like fingers and more like sausages. “We… We live together. We got a fam’ly. We kissed a whole bunch. We…” His eyes widen in realization, and he grabs Kunihiro’s shoulders again in panic. “You didn’t say it.”

“S-Say what?” Kunihiro asks, still looking dazed.

Izuminokami pats his cheeks in an attempt to snap him out of it. “You know. I told you I love you. What about you? You, you…” He sniffs again. This is getting dangerous, and he has a feeling he’s about to burst into tears in front of this huge crowd of people, but he can’t stop himself from babbling: “Do you even want to kiss me anymore? Did you get tired of me already? If — If you’re gonna kiss someone else, just… just know they’re never g’nna be as cool and strong and… and cool as me…”

Kunihiro’s face goes through a series of expressions Izuminokami is too distressed to parse right now before he sighs and reaches up to cup Izuminokami’s face, thumb wiping away one traitorous tear. “You said cool twice,” he tells him.

Izuminokami tries to snarl and ends up whimpering. “Shuddup.”

“Good grief, Kane-san… Have you been worried about that this whole time?” Kunihiro pulls him down, and for a moment Izuminokami lights up at the prospect of another kiss, but to his dismay Kunihiro stops short right before their lips would have met. “Of course I love you too,” he murmurs. “You were made for me. I’ve loved you since Hijikata-san brought you out from the forge.”

“Oh,” Izuminokami says, his voice a little squeaky.

In the background, someone wails, “This is sooo cute!”

“But I was hoping we could have had this conversation somewhere more private,” Kunihiro says, giving their audience a dry look. Izuminokami would be more surprised — and flattered — and probably embarrassed by, considering he had been this close to full-out bawling — by the small crowd that’s formed around them if he weren’t preoccupied with replaying Kunihiro’s I love you in his head. “Now will you help me bring Aruji-san back up to our room? Then we can do whatever you want.”

“Like kiss?” Izuminokami asks, hopefully.

“Definitely kiss,” Kunihiro agrees.

“Where is that useless saniwa?” Izuminokami demands. “They had their turn yesterday. Tonight they’re sleeping on the couch.”

Kissing and being kissed by Kunihiro would feel like a dream — enthralling, hypnotic, impossible to walk away from — if these human bodies weren’t so physical, tangible, real. Izuminokami had never properly appreciated how much these bodies can feel until today, with the entire expanse of Kunihiro to explore. So many parts to touch, so many different sensations to experience, so many little sounds Kunihiro can make — and when Kunihiro gets his turn, well. That’s a different thing entirely.

“Kunihiro,” Izuminokami says, sometime around two in the morning. They’ve made a mess of the bed, pillows and blankets tossed here and there, but after all that kissing they’re too tired to be organized.

Kunihiro snuggles closer to him, his face tucked so perfectly into the crook of Izuminokami’s shoulder that, for what feels like the hundredth time today, Izuminokami thinks about how even these human bodies of theirs are a perfect match. “Mm… yes?”

“Hear my haiku.”

“…G…Go on…”

“I… was made for you.” Izuminokami rests a hand atop Kunihiro’s head, brushing feather-soft hair through his fingers. “Passing by the passing times. Our love… a closed ring.”

Silence. Then Kunihiro lifts his head up to meet Izuminokami’s gaze. “That was pretty good,” he whispers.

Izuminokami sends a prayer of thanks up to Hijikata’s spirit, surely watching over him right now. “Of course it was pretty good. Jot that down for me. It’ll be on the very first page of my published collec… I don’t mean right now,” he says, wrapping an arm around Kunihiro’s waist when the slippery little wakizashi tries to roll over to the other side of the bed, where a notepad sits atop the dresser. “Just. Remember it. And then write it down tomorrow.”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” Kunihiro yawns, already back to snuggling him. Izuminokami was right: this poor thing would never have survived three days without him. “Kane-san?”

“Yeah.”

“You know we don’t really have to check off all the criteria for a married couple, right?” he says; then, before Izuminokami can do more than stare at him in shock, Kunihiro adds, “I like being married to you and all. But we’ve always been partners, and that won’t ever change.” He nuzzles Izuminokami’s neck, presses a kiss to the side of his throat. “Anyway, don’t you think it’s cooler to have something unique to us? In that sense, you could say we’re more special than any married couple in the world.”

This time it’s Izuminokami’s turn to feel gobsmacked. “You… That…”

“What?” Kunihiro lifts his head again to blink sleepily up at him. “No good?”

“Idiot. All good,” Izuminokami grumbles, pushing his face back into his embrace and smothering Kunihiro’s surprised laugh against his chest. He almost says I love you again, just because it feels like the words are bubbling up in his chest and making it hard to breathe, but instead Izuminokami rests his chin on the crown of Kunihiro’s head and mutters, “Everyone’s gonna be so jealous when we get back.”

Kunihiro’s voice is muffled. “Why? Because we got to go on a vacation?”

“This isn’t a vacation. We were on saniwa-sitting duty the whole time. No, because we’re married partners now, and they aren’t.”

“Married partners,” Kunihiro thoughtfully repeats. “I guess that’s got a nice ring to it too.”

Izuminokami can hear the smile in his voice, so obviously he has to lift Kunihiro up to kiss it off his face.