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Enten sits untouched, as it has in the days following Chihiro Rokuhira’s death.
The young man sits on the hardwood of the Kyoto Massacre Hotel, rapping his fingers against the floor. He has made little progress with his mastery of Iai White Purity Style, try as he might, only enabled a further ache to settle into his bones.
He tries to ignore the way Rou of the Masumi Clan has been watching him from across the room. Has been looking at him ever since he proposed this idea. Chihiro is no fool even as his junior—he knows exactly what Rou thinks of all this, had known it from the moment tension had darkened his face, his apprehension clear.
But I have to try. You know that, don't you?
“. . . Yes, Chihiro. I know. It doesn't mean I enjoy watching you throw yourself into this.”
Rou uncrosses his arms and pushes himself off the wall with his foot. He is by Chihiro’s side in no time at all, steps soundless even as he presses his weight into the creaky panels of the janky hotel floor. That expression from before—when Chihiro had promised Iori her safety—is back. The Masumi leader sighs, brows furrowed in thought.
“But you are my ward and I will follow your orders, as the Masumi have always done. You know though, don't you? The risk? You aren't making this decision recklessly?”
Of course he does. The question brings to mind Iori’s round eyes, so unlike her mother's. She was brave, he thinks, to stand among murderers and not flinch. To throw herself into danger the way she had. To place her trust in a handful of people she had just met for a chance at knowing Samura.
And to know Samura was what he and Rou both sought, wasn't it? Who were they to reseal her memories?
Chihiro frowns. He is hardly able to keep a straight head when he recalls his father, but. . .
Well. The decisions that led him here today have been wrought with grief and anguish, spurned on through his intense desire to right the wrong committed against his father. This is by far the easiest decision he has ever had to make.
“I have to. There’s no other option.” He says, like Rou knew he would.
“Then you should pick up your sword again,” The Masumi head snarks. Confidence lines his form as he tests the weight of his twin katana in each hand. “You have my word, I will lay down my life for you and her both if I need to.”
Chihiro manages to smile back. His hand passes over Enten and curls around the hilt of his own katana.
He unsheathes the blade, and swings.