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Summary
"Do continue," Getou said quietly, almost absentminded. "A brat from a Gojou clan. Isn't it?"
"How did you—ah," he barely managed to finish.
The second stitch came lower, the needle forcing its way through with a wet, resisting give before the silk followed, dragging tight through the flesh. Blood welled up again only to be pressed back in.
"All of you brats have those white hair," Getou replied through tight lips.
The silk darkened as it passed through him.
"At least give me something to drink you old man," Satoru rasped. His voice broke on the second part of the sentence.
The thread cinched again. A faint pause. Then, almost gently: "My warriors used to bite their tongues off before moaning like a bitch on the cot."
While taking a mission in a distant village Gojou Satoru discovers Getou Suguru a renowned warrior who was declared dead in the clan war.