Chapter Text
On the day that Kane-san first meets him, Horikawa is smiling. Kane-san doesn’t know much yet, being newly forged means that his world is limited to his swordsmith and his master. He opens the door a little, and lets Horikawa enter into this small world of his.
There are certain things that Kane-san is born knowing, his name, Izuminokami Kanesada, and the pride with which he carries it, and the name of his master. He is born knowing what Hijikata’s ambitions are, and he is forged with a little of the man’s soul inside of him.
But what Kane-san doesn’t know greatly outnumbers what he does. He doesn’t know that Horikawa’s smile, so perfect and welcoming, is fake. The older sword wears his smile all the time, except when he sleeps, or when he fights.
The first time that Hijikata brings Kane-san onto the battlefield, he feels a shiver run up his spine. Fear? Excitement? His blood boils, this is the true purpose of a sword. But it’s Horikawa that is drawn, and while Kane-san just can’t hold a grin back, there is no smile on the wakizashi’s face.
Horikawa is fast, he’s accurate, he’s calculating. Kane-san can only watch in awe as one man after another goes down by Horikawa’s blade.
The Horikawa that has a calm, controlled ferocity on the battlefield is strikingly different from the Horikawa that Kane-san sees on any other day. This Horikawa smiles, and laughs softly with one hand covering his mouth.
The older sword teaches him about humans, and while not everything makes sense at first, Kane-san learns of all the mannerisms that swords imitate.
Sleep isn’t necessary, not really anyhow, but after a few days into existence, Kane-san learns what it means to be exhausted. There is so much for him to learn, and his head hurts.
Horikawa smiles, though he never stopped smiling to begin with, and takes Kane-san by the arm.
“Follow me,” he says, and takes him to a sunlit spot. He pulls a pillow over, and sets it down. He pats that, “Lay your head down, and close your eyes. It’s nice and warm here, the best place for a nap.”
Kane-san doesn’t understand, but he complies anyhow. He’s already figured out that whatever Horikawa says is probably correct, the sword has several centuries of experience living in this world. It does feel nice, laying his head down, curling up in a patch of sunlight. He feels Horikawa brush his hair with his fingers, and he relaxes further, falling asleep not long after.
He likes it when Horikawa touches his hair. Kane-san quickly learns to love sleep, and hate waking up in the mornings. But it’s not so bad, almost, when he knows that Horikawa will comb his hair for him at the start of every day.
Horikawa’s fingers are gentle, and slowly tease the tangles out of his hair. He feels like asleep while the older sword combs his hair, and often times he does. Sometimes, Horikawa hums a little under his breath, and Kane-san memorizes the tune.
There are other times, though, when Horikawa remains silent, far off. But as soon as Kane-san turns around, he sees that the older sword is smiling, “All done, Kane-san!”
Horikawa teaches Kane-san about Hijikata’s past achievements, and the uchigatana feels his chest swell with pride. His master is really someone amazing, someone strong and cool. Kane-san is glad to be his weapon.
He’s also taught about the other members of the Shinsengumi, and Horikawa mentions something only in passing about Okita. He’s sick, he collapsed a few years ago, there isn’t much for Kane-san to learn from these few brief sentences. It must not have been significant, this Ikedaya incident. Horikawa’s smile fades away as he talks about this, and even long after, his smile seems a little dimmer.
Kane-san meets Yasusada. Okita’s sword, he recalls what Horikawa taught him, but it wasn’t very much at all.
Yasusada doesn’t speak much, and he smiles even less. When he does smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yasusada says, “I heard about you from Horikawa.”
Kane-san nods his head, and returns the greeting. There isn’t much for them to talk about, and with how closed off the older sword is, it seems that he doesn’t want to talk.
Kane-san sits back in a corner, next to Nagasone. It’s ironic, the sword that introduced himself as fake seems to have the most genuine smile of them all.
Horikawa talks with Yasusada for a while, and Kane-san watches the two.
Something is wrong, he realizes.
Yasusada only looks at the ground, and Horikawa also hangs his head. The atmosphere around them isn’t right, and while it sounds as if the two of them are just discussing the latest news, it feels much heavier than that.
Horikawa doesn’t ask Yasusada how Okita is, and so Yasusada doesn’t tell him. Yasusada doesn’t tell him that Okita’s getting worse by the day, that he’s scared, he’s so scared, Okita is dying and there’s nothing he can do. Because a sword can cut down many things, but it can’t cut down sickness, and soon, Yasusada knows, he’ll be alone. So Yasusada doesn’t say this, and he doesn’t say that he already feels alone, and that he’s felt alone ever since---
Yasusada says nothing at all, and Horikawa continues to smile.
It’s not too long after that Kane-san begins to recognize Horikawa’s real smiles from his forced ones.
Kane-san often finds himself humming softly, whenever he loses himself in thought, that little tune he heard from Horikawa finds its place at his lips.
Horikawa’s hands freeze in place at the sound, comb stopped in Kane-san’s hair. It’s only for a second, before he regains his composure.
Kane-san doesn’t understand, so he asks. He finds it a little strange, it’s a nice song but other than this he has only ever heard Horikawa sing children’s rhymes. What is this song?
Horikawa smiles, “It’s nothing, just a song I heard from someone else.”
Kane-san doesn’t inquire any further, Horikawa’s answer has a sense of finality to it.
He never hears Horikawa hum it again.
Kane-san wakes up to a bright strip of moonlight falling across his face. He doesn’t get up, the day’s exhaustion has him gripped tightly, and he’ll probably fall back asleep soon enough.
He shifts onto his side, and that’s when he notices the space next to him is empty. He looks toward the window, Horikawa is seated next to it, gazing outside.
Kane-san feels his breath stop for a second, there’s a look on the older sword’s face that he’s never seen before. Horikawa isn’t smiling, and he seems to be looking somewhere far off into the distance.
Kane-san realizes just then that Horikawa might possibly know everything about him --after all, he’s been at his side ever since he was forged-- but Kane-san knows nothing about Horikawa. He wonders, what is it that causes Horikawa to make such a face.
“Ah, Kane-san, were you awake?” Suddenly, Horikawa is smiling again, and Kane-san almost wonders if he imagined it.
Kane-san has gotten lost, it’s not a huge problem, but he’d rather be back at Horikawa’s side than stuck in a crowd. There are stalls set up all around him, selling food, toys, and trinkets. It’s his first time seeing so many people all at once, children running underfoot, and their mothers calling after them.
He’ll find Horikawa soon enough, and if not Horikawa, then Hijikata. A sword’s spirit can’t wander away too far from it’s physical body, so Kane-san can’t get hopelessly lost.
Well, it’s fine then, Kane-san decides. He’ll have a look around on his own, it’s nice outside, if a bit hot. He begins to walk, stopping every once in a while to look at this or that, but eventually he stops and doesn’t move.
Someone is singing, a child perhaps, and the tune feels familiar. It’s Horikawa’s song, is how Kane-san thinks of it, and decides to run towards the voice.
It’s different though, this time there are words. He strains to hear, through all the noise and clamor the crowd rings, it’s difficult.
The voice stops singing. But Kane-san has already understood it.
It’s a love song, a sad one. Something about that makes him feel strange, but he can’t figure out what it is.
Horikawa had heard it from someone before, and Kane-san begins to wonder...who is that someone?
Kane-san wanders around for a while longer, the excitement he’d felt at the start of the day already wearing thin. He realizes, there is even more that he doesn’t know than he thought. He doesn’t know why Yasusada doesn’t smile. Horikawa had described him as cheerful, after all. And he doesn’t know why Horikawa does, and recently, the smile that he had found to be so welcoming at first sight reminds him of the time he’d seen a human skull. Stuck with an expression that only seems to be a smile, but whatever feelings should have been behind it are long gone.
He shakes his head, that’s maybe a little too morbid, even from a sword. But it can’t be helped that he’s curious, he’s only half a year old, and there is so much that feels like it’s been hidden from him.
While lost in thought, he’s somehow found Horikawa. The older sword is standing in front of a stall, bent forward to look at something.
Kane-san walks up next to him, but Horikawa doesn’t notice his presence.
There’s that look on his face again, and recently Kane-san has seen it on Horikawa’s face more often. Sometimes, when Horikawa thinks that Kane-san isn’t watching, his smile slips off, and instead this lonely expression fills his features.
Right now, Horikawa is looking at a pair of earrings, they’re gold and dangley.
Kane-san has never thought of Horikawa having any interest in jewelry, and neither are his ears pierced. Ah , he realizes. They must be for that someone.
The thought makes his heart sink, but he doesn’t know why. It isn’t jealousy, rather, it’s a sad feeling.
“Kunihiro,” he says, interrupting the older sword.
Horikawa quickly places the earrings back down, as if he’s been burned. He covers up his abrupt reaction by smiling, “Kane-san! I didn’t see you there, did you find anything you want?”
Kane-san shakes his head, and leans in towards the stall. There are rows of earrings, necklaces, and rings spread out. They’re pretty, but the younger sword can’t focus on what’s in front of him. The words of the song won’t leave his mind, and he can’t help but think it means something.
“I think these would suit Kane-san,” Horikawa picks up a pair of earrings, red and gold. They’re beautiful, if a little flashy, not that Kane-san minds flashy. Horikawa looks up at Kane-san, “What do you think?”
“I like them,” he sifts through some earrings that are in a box, and takes out a pair of red studs. They sparkle as they catch the light, and he places them in Horikawa’s hands.
“Did you want these instead?”
Kane-san shakes his head, “No, it’s for you.”
Horikawa’s eyes widen slightly, but his expression is unreadable “Oh.”
Does he not like them? Kane-san can’t tell from his reaction.
“You don’t like red?” Kane-san wears red, and he gives a feeling of red. Loud, straightforward, passionate.
“No, I like it,” the older sword smiles, “let’s buy these. We can match, your earrings and mine.”
And now Kane-san’s face is a little red. He already knows that Horikawa is his assistant, one of the first things he was told upon meeting him. Their connection is only through both being owned by Hijikata, but somehow this is nice. Matching earrings they bought together, it makes him feel a little closer to Horikawa.
He hides the sudden embarrassment this brings, “Kunihiro, you’re not getting those?”
He points at the golden pair from before, and Horikawa shakes his head.
“I was only looking at them,” Horikawa places coins down, the merchant obviously can’t see the two, but just taking the jewelry without paying goes against the wakizashi’s morals.
Kane-san doesn’t ask Yasusada, or rather, he doesn’t want to. There isn’t much he can piece together, after all, and nobody wants to talk about it, but he knows that he shouldn’t ask Yasusada.
It’s only a few more times that Kane-san sees him, and the older sword seems listless. Lifeless. He spends all his time at Okita’s side, what else is there for a sword to do but wait next to his master? But Okita doesn’t draw him, he no longer has the strength.
So Kane-san doesn’t ask Yasusada. He doesn’t ask Horikawa either. He doesn’t know why, but he’s scared to. He’s scared that Horikawa will make that face again, and even more, he’s scared that Horikawa will wear a fake smile and tell him that absolutely nothing is wrong.
So Kane-san asks Nagasone. In terms of age, the sword is the closest to Kane-san. He also came into Kondo’s possession not much earlier than Kane-san into Hijikata’s.
When Nagasone smiles, it’s warm and genuine, a smile not only on his lips but also in his eyes. He wasn’t there, not at Ikedaya, Kane-san realizes.
But he asks him anyway, the sword belongs to Kondo, and surely there is something he knows.
The air recently has grown quiet, and thick like stagnant pond water. But in truth, it is just that Kane-san has only now noticed it. Since the time of his forging, and even before, the times have been strangely silent.
“Ikedaya?” Nagasone rests his arms against his chest, while one hand thoughtfully rubs against his stubbled chin.
Kane-san nods, “did something happen during the raid?”
Nagasone tilts his head, “I wasn’t there, so I can’t tell you a whole lot. What are you curious about?”
“It’s...well,” Kane-san looks at the ground, unable to find the words to ask his question. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking to find.
The older sword sighs, “Okita used to have another sword, I never met him and I couldn’t tell you his name, but he broke that night.”
Kane-san doesn’t look away from his feet, covering his mouth with a hand to hold back a gasp. It shouldn’t surprise him, rather he had almost pieced it together at this point. But actually hearing it is…
Nagasone places a hand on his shoulder, “They’ll talk about it when they’re ready to, don’t force them to.”
Kane-san nods his head and takes a shaky breath before looking back up at Nagasone, “Thanks, for telling me.”
And then, Kane-san never sees Nagasone again. It’s bound to happen with the lives they live-- death. But that doesn’t make the reality of it any easier to swallow. Kondo is dead, with his head left on display.
Tears come easily to Kane-san’s eyes. Swords interact with swords, so it’s more for Nagasone’s sake that his tears are shed. But swords are influenced by their masters, so Hijikata’s emotions also run high through Kane-san’s veins. Anger, frustration, sadness.
Somehow, Horikawa’s smile seems to wear a little thinner, and Kane-san wonders when it’ll snap entirely. He hopes it doesn’t, he’d rather see Horikawa genuinely smiling than ever see him sad.
The inevitable happens. Okita passes away, and another constant presence disappears from Kane-san’s life. Or perhaps, disappears seems to give the illusion that this was something abrupt. Okita fades away, and so does Yasusada’s presence. He fades and fades away, until he is no longer there.
Kane-san wonders if it would be better for Horikawa to cry, to let it all out rather than keep forcing this threadbare smile.
A year passes, time seems to inch forward though it all seems to pass in the blink of an eye. It’s also within just a blink of an eye that a bullet makes contact with Hijikata’s chest and pierces itself through. It’s within this blink of an eye that he falls off his horse, and is dead before his men can even reach him.
Blood splashes over Horikawa, he’s tasted the death of many, and this iron scent that soaks him shouldn’t be any different. Except it is, it’s entirely different because this is Hijikata’s blood.
Horikawa isn’t smiling when he returns to the Hijikata household, he’s been washed of blood but if he closes his eyes he can feel it again, warm and wet, a choking feeling. Horikawa doesn’t smile until they place him next to Kane-san again, but it’s a smile for the sake of appearances. He can’t allow himself to cry, not when Kane-san’s own tears won’t end. So he bites it back, he smiles, he rubs Kane-san’s back, and lets him soak his shoulder. He promises him that things will get better, that he won’t ever leave, and the whole time he knows he’s lying.
Horikawa Kunihiro is a liar, a fake.
His smile is the fakest thing about him, and the one he lies most to is himself.
And since he’s a liar, he tells himself that everything is alright. He’s fine.
Time passes, after all there is nothing that either Horikawa or Kane-san can do to stop it. The days where Kane-san spends the entirety of his waking hours crying are gone, it doesn’t mean that he misses Hijikata any less, but that the pain has dulled from a sharp, spiking sensation to something much more mellowed.
There’s no change in Horikawa’s behavior, he didn’t cry and even now he doesn’t cry. His smile is as thin as ever, and Kane-san can easily discern his forced ones from his genuine one. He hasn’t seen Horikawa smile in a long time, he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen him truly smile.
Whenever Horikawa thinks that Kane-san isn’t looking, his lips press together in a straight line, and his eyes gaze off somewhere far. It’s that same lonely expression, and whether it’s been two years or twenty, it doesn’t seem to change. Horikawa thinks that Kane-san doesn’t notice, but he does, and Kane-san decides that perhaps he’s had enough of that.
He faintly recalls Nagasone’s warning, but Kane-san has always been one to act first, and only sometimes worry about it later. So he’s already grabbed Horikawa by the shoulders before he can think of what to say.
It’s not words that come to his mouth, but a sob instead. He’s crying, he’s not sure why, but the tears just won’t stop. And now Horikawa’s looking at him confused, asking him what’s wrong in that soft, gentle voice of his.
“I don’t know..!” Kane-san chokes out, his hands shake and fall away from Horikawa to wipe at his tears instead, “you just look so sad.”
Horikawa fixes a smile on to his face, “I’m fine, Kane-san.”
“No, you’re not!” He shakes his head, tears dripping off his chin, “You’re not fine! If you’re sad, it’s okay to cry!”
He realizes his words have come out a little forceful, but he’s never been very good at this kind of thing.
“I told you, I’m alright,” he says, his smile unshaking.
Kane-san pulls him against his chest, “I won’t look, it’s okay!”
His arms around Horikawa’s shoulders tremble a little, and his chest heaves with each sob.
“I’m okay, I’m fine--,” Horikawa’s voice catches in his throat, “I’m fine.”
He repeats the words, even as his shoulders shake and tears begin to spill down his cheeks, “I’m fine.”
He begins to cry more, all the tears he’s bottled up for god knows how many centuries, and they all fall as if without end.
“I miss him,” he says, taking a shaky breath. Kane-san rubs his shoulders the way that Horikawa always does for him.
He doesn’t stop talking, his voice still broken with sobs, “I miss him. I’ve lived for this long, changed hands many times, but it still hurts.”
“Everyone...everyone’s gone now…”
His hands fist into Kane-san’s clothes, and now tears begin to soak the fabric.
“Losing him was hard enough,” Horikawa’s voice cracks, and somehow Kane-san knows he’s no longer talking about Hijikata. He’s talking about that someone who used to sing a love song, someone who liked golden earrings, someone who liked the color red. Okita’s sword, whose name Kane-san doesn’t know, Okita’s sword that broke.
“I couldn’t...I couldn’t do anything…”
He stops trying to talk, just resting himself against Kane-san as a downpour of tears leave him. He cries, and cries, and Kane-san cries along with him.
“Kunihiro, I’m still here,” he tries to sound cool, but with how much his voice shakes it sounds like a plea. As if he’s saying, everyone is gone but please don’t leave me .
Horikawa pulls away, and reaches up to wipe Kane-san’s tears, though his own face is still wet, “That’s true. Kane-san, you’re still here.”
“I won’t leave you, I swear,” Kane-san says, and this time his words are almost convincing.
Kane-san doesn’t see Horikawa cry like that ever again, which is fine. It’s as if a heavy weight has fallen from his shoulders, as if his breaths come a little easier. His smile comes a lot more naturally to his face too, still a little sad, still a little lonely, but it can’t be helped.
It’s a late summer night, the two of them are sitting on the porch watching the fireflies float lazily through the air. Horikawa’s gaze seems to go somewhere far off, as it tends to do, and Kane-san feels something clench tightly around his heart. He wants to see Horikawa smile, he realizes, he wants to make Horikawa smile. And ah, is that what this is? He’s finally able to name that strange bittersweet feeling in his chest. It’s not some big revelation, rather it’s a feeling that’s been there for so long that the only surprise is that he doesn’t know why he didn’t realize it sooner.
He lifts his head off of Horikawa, and lays a hand on top of his. Horikawa turns to look at him, and Kane-san feels something buzz within his veins. He’s impulsive, he doesn’t think things through, so right now he wants to let Horikawa know exactly how feels.
“Kunihiro,” He starts, squeezing Horikawa’s hand within his, “I..”
Horikawa’s gaze sweeps over his features, reading his expression. Something that he sees causes his eyebrows to draw together, something to tense inside him.
Horikawa pulls his hand away, and stands up. He smiles at Kane-san, “I’m going to bed now, don’t stay up too late, Kane-san.”
It’s not hard to understand that he’s been dismissed, that Horikawa has purposely cut off his words.
But it’s easier this way, Horikawa thinks. After all, there’s no assurance that they’ll be together for years to come, or even the next day. Humans are fragile, and while swords are forged to be strong, they can also break. They can burn, and be buried.
Horikawa understands the regret of leaving it unspoken, but he’s certain that it’s better this way.
Some promises are made to be broken, but Kane-san upholds his half. He doesn’t leave Horikawa, it’s Horikawa who is taken from him.
“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” He says, but it’s just as empty as his promise from before. He has no control over this, but it’s better for Kane-san to believe this than to know the truth.
“I’m sorry,” he says, but Kane-san doesn’t know what Horikawa’s apologizing for. His smile is still there, and Kane-san knows he’s wearing it for his sake. He’s a little wrong about that. If Horikawa doesn’t smile, surely he’ll break right now. But he needs to be strong, so Horikawa’s smile is also for his own sake.
It’s wishful thinking, but Horikawa hopes that Kane-san will forget about him. Or perhaps he will think of him with bitterness, the sword that lied to him. That’s better, isn’t it?
Kane-san doesn’t forget, and neither does he blame Horikawa. He simply holds on to the hope that he’ll be back someday, no matter how long it takes.
And centuries pass by like this, alone.