Chapter Text
The last thing that Mamori remembers is flames, flickering all around her as her eyelids shut for the last time.
The first thing that Mamori sees is flames, when her eyes open, even though she knows that her eyes should have never opened again. She’s already burnt away, she should no longer exist, but these flames feel different. They aren’t like the flames that she met at her end, these are gentle, and she thinks that these might be like the flames that she was first born into. The fire around her dies down, though the warm, comfortable feeling doesn’t leave.
A cool, calm voice greets her, “Hello, can you hear me?”
It startles her a little, and she looks up to see a girl with bobbed hair, dressed in a creaseless white uniform. There’s a strange air about her, not so much in an unsettling way, but a feeling of familiarity. Something about her existence is similar to Mamori’s own, but there’s still something a little too human about her.
“Hello?” The girl repeats, and Mamori realizes she hasn’t replied.
“Y-yes!” Her voice shakes, revealing her nerves, “Um...where is this?”
The girl smiles, and it helps to soothe Mamori a little bit. It’s a smile that she can trust, she thinks, even though she understands nothing about the situation, “I’m Shigure Kasumi, a wakizashi. Could you introduce yourself?”
Mamori nods her head, fidgeting with her hands, “I’m Tokonome Mamori...I...I’m an oodachi”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mamori.” She falls silent for just a beat, “If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you remember about yourself?”
“H-huh?” Mamori’s eyebrows draw together, and when she tries to think about it a headache splits her skull, “I...I was…”
“It’s alright, don’t force yourself to remember.” Kasumi notes something down, “This is a place where you can make a new start, the past only matters if you want it to.”
She opens a door, and beckons Mamori to follow after her, “I’ll explain where we are and show you around. I think you’ll like it here, the Governor is always doing her best to make this a comfortable place for everyone.”
Mamori nods her head, though she still doesn’t understand everything.
They walk down a hall, Kasumi’s heels clicking softly against the marble tiles. The architecture of the place is like nothing that Mamori is used to, it’s far different from what her home was like. Another spear of pain shoots up inside her head, but she ignores it. Wooden floors, the scent of burning incense, softly murmured prayers. Her home, she was a blade dedicated to a shrine. A squeezing sensation fills her chest, as if someone has gripped a hand tightly around her heart.
Kasumi’s voice interrupts her thoughts, “This is the infirmary. It’s best if you get a check up first, there have been...mistakes in forging before.”
The door to the infirmary is open, and a woman sits at a table, flipping through a small book. The inside of the room is white and clean. Mamori wrinkles her nose, there’s a sharp scent that burns just a little.
“Oh, hello, Kasumi!” The woman greets them, “Ah, do we have a newcomer? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kazami Torino, but you can call me big sister if you’d like.”
She stands up from the chair, and rolls it back into the desk. She meets Kasumi’s eyes again, “Just the regular check up, right?”
Kasumi nods her head, “Yes, just the usual. She was brought from several centuries ago, forged from spirit alone, so please ensure that everything is as it should be.”
Torino’s smiles fades a little, and a slight sadness shadows her eyes, “I see.”
Mamori takes in this information, though she doesn’t know what to make of it. What does that mean, and why does it make Torino seem sad?
Torino’s expression goes back to the sunny smile she first greeted the two of them with, she pats one of the infirmary’s beds, “Please take a seat here, Mamori.”
Mamori complies, setting her sword on the ground, leaning against the bed frame.
“Has Kasumi explained it to you yet? About your body?”
Mamori shakes her head, and Torino clucks her tongue. She looks back at Kasumi, still standing in the doorway, “That should be the first thing you explain, the poor girl’s probably feeling so lost right now.”
Torino turns back towards Mamori, and places a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Don’t worry too much, it’ll take a while to get used to but it’s not that bad.”
“This is my real body, just like it was in the past.” She picks up the sword lying across her own desk, she sets it on her lap, then lays a hand across her chest, “But unlike in the past, this body is actually real. We’re not really human, but we do have physical forms. We can interact with this world, we can eat, sleep, get injured. Injuries to this body can heal, no matter how drastic they are, but if our real bodies, our blades, get injured that’s…”
She frowns, “Well, it’s better to avoid that. If you ever get a scratch, even if it’s small, on your blade make sure to drop by here.”
Mamori nods her head, it’s a lot to take in at once. It explains the strange feeling she’d gotten from Kasumi at first, and how her form had felt a little too solid. She’s almost human, in a sense now.
After Torino’s finished with her explanations, she gives Mamori a check-up. It’s all standard procedure, Kasumi tries to calm Mamori’s nerves---all the modern medical equipment seems to scare her, just a bit.
Torino smiles, ticking something off on a clipboard. She looks back up at Mamori, “All done! You’re in tip top shape.”
She unclips the sheet of paper, and hands it to Kasumi, “You’ll be taking her to the Governor? Take this too, she’ll want to see it.”
Kasumi nods her head, and then beckons to Mamori to follow after her. Torino notices the way that Mamori’s knees knock together, and gives her a reassuring smile.
“You’ll be fine, Akira’s not anyone scary.” She pats Mamori on the head, “Also, Mamori, feel free to drop by here anytime. Even if you’re not hurt, it’s good to talk, alright?”
Mamori nods, and gives Torino a nervous smile back.
Torino pushes her back, “Now, off you go!”
Mamori swallows. She’s standing outside a large set of double doors, feeling both impressed and intimidated at the same time. Kasumi is as composed as ever, and gives a sharp knock on the heavy wood, “Governor, I’m entering. I have the new sword with me.”
“Yes, come in.”
Kasumi pushes the door open, and Mamori follows inside after her. The Governor is seated behind a large desk, and the second that Mamori’s eyes fall upon her, there’s a strange feeling in her chest. This person is human, Mamori thinks, but she’s special. She seems to seize the attention of everyone around her, and carries herself with pride.
“That was all I wanted to discuss with you. I’ll be excusing myself then,” Mamori’s eyes are finally drawn away from the Governor, and she notices the sword standing beside her. Pink hair tied back with elaborate ornaments, and a haughty air around her, she gives Mamori a small smile.
There’s a bite to her voice that even Mamori notices, “Ah, so you’re the newbie…”
Before Mamori can even react, she finds herself pinned to the wall, something cold against her neck.
“Charlotte!” Kasumi’s warns, voice containing a barely hidden threat.
Mamori’s heart rattles inside her chest, her eyes meeting Charlotte’s violet ones. The other sword grins, “If you want to survive here, you’ll need to be faster than that.”
Kasumi calls her name again, hand settling on the hilt of her sword. Charlotte turns around and laughs, “It’s only a pen.”
She raises it up, and it really is nothing but a pen. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, “But Kasumi, you seem a little too eager to for a fight...you should be better than that, you’re Akira’s right hand, after all.”
Kasumi doesn’t respond, but her eyes narrow further.
“That’s enough, the two of you.” Akira claps her hands, drawing attention back to herself.
“It really was just a joke, you know how I like to tease the new ones.”
Akira sighs, “I know, but try to control yourself. You may be excused, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s lips pull into a pout, and she huffs out of the room.
Akira runs a hand through her bangs, and sighs again, “I’m sorry about that, Charlotte can be a little…”
She trails off, and fixes a brighter smile on her face, “Putting that aside, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mamori.”
Akira walks out from behind her desk, towards Mamori, extending a hand in greeting.
Mamori takes her hand, shaking it enthusiastically. Seeing Akira up close, she feels just a bit starstruck.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” Her voice squeaks a bit, and she flushes slightly with embarrassment. Kasumi’s lips bend into a small smile, Akira has this effect on people often, and it’s a little amusing to watch. Mamori’s blush deepens, and Akira finally withdraws her hand, “I hope you’ll be able to like it here. I take it that Kasumi’s already explained the basics to you?”
Kasumi shakes her head, “I’ve shown her around, and Torino’s told her about her physical body, but I thought it best to leave the details about our mission to you.”
“Hmm…” Akira nods her head, “I see.”
She looks away from Kasumi, meeting Mamori’s eyes again, “I’ve summoned you here for a reason, there are evil forces that wish to rewrite history. For the sake of defeating those forces, I’ve gathered many swords at this citadel.”
Her gaze feels even stronger, intense even, and Mamori struggles to keep eye contact.
“Will you become my strength, will you fight?”
Mamori’s eyes widen, and she finally looks away. Her gaze drops to the floor, at her feet. She doesn’t remember much of her past, nothing but faint whispers, but she knows one thing. She was never a blade that was meant to know the taste of blood.
She can’t manage to find her voice, and she hears Akira laugh softly.
Mamori looks back up, and sees that Akira is smiling.
“You don’t have to come to a conclusion right away, and even if you decide that fighting isn’t something you wish to do...it’s alright if you want to remain here, at the citadel.”
Mamori smiles, relieved. She nods her head, “Thank you! I’ll think about it!”
“Well then,” Akira walks back to her desk, “I’ve got quite a lot of work to sort through, and Mamori will probably need some rest, some time to let everything sink in. Kasumi, if you’ll escort her to her room.”
Kasumi nods, and Mamori glances one last time over her shoulder at Akira, her elegant posture and serious expression as she busies herself with work.