It was stressful, waiting. And it was unexpected, the way he went. But now here she is, waiting just outside the entrance to the forge, because Mitsutada has been destroyed. But that was the equivalent of death, and that he potentially wouldn't remember her at all. All of which saddened her. But it would be fine if she could hope? Or at least see him again, just to see him well and healthy again.
And all this time, she was thinking: "What am I even doing here." It won't be the same, but if she could...
Shaking her head, she pushed away such thoughts and looked into the forge to see what was happening.]
[ The Saniwa spent a good amount of time inside the forge - a lot longer than the rest. And when she comes out, her walk is brisk - and she pulls Viernam aside once she sees her.
I'm sorry. You'll have to be prepared.
And then she leaves in a swirl of miko robes, scattering cherry blossom petals in her wake.
The forge goes quiet for a good few minutes, while the sword inside processes everything that he has been told. Then the screen door opens, and a lean dark-haired man steps out - purple eyes sharp and acute as he takes in his surroundings.
[Vietnam still wouldn't be able to tell what to expect from the Saniwa's words alone. What was she preparing for? Is he gone? Did he forget?
If it was that, she's prepared, she considered the possibility. Perhaps that's why the Saniwa was in there for so long. Fine, she can deal.
But the curiosity is still killing her, and she decided to enter the forge. Well, she would have if not for the door opening and she was standing right in front of Mitsutada.
He's well, he's okay, the Saniwa managed to bring him back. This was all she needed, and it took everything to hold back her emotions before she accidentally overwhelmed him.]
Mitsu--...
[She trails off, not because he didn't seen to notice her, or that he was looking around. Rather, he wasn't quite Mitsutada. He had both of his eyes intact, and they were both purple.
[ He is different. Even the way he holds himself is different - a stance more formal and alert, with one hand resting on tr hilt of his true form. A stance of a guardian, someone ever watchful of the surroundings and ready to strike at any moment.
When she speaks, he turns immediately to watch her much like a hawk. But then, there is a sliver of confusion across his blank expression. ]
[The only thing the same about him would be his physically appearance, save for the two good eyes and the colour. But everything else? He holds himself differently, he looks at her differently. At least, even more different to when they first met. And then when he speaks, it's not the type of "cool" that Mitsutada was famous for; it was slightly icy.]
Ah... [He doesn't remember her (expected). What she didn't expect was all of this, so it's really taking a huge toll on her. And she's pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate being said that she knew his other version a little more intimately than he would like.]
I know you. Or of you, whichever you prefer. My name is Vietnam. In a way, I am Japan's younger sister.
[She didn't expect it to feel so heavy, reintroducing herself like that.]
[ If this was the Mitsutada of the future, he would have been able to pick up the change in her tone, ask her what was wrong even when he didn't know her at all.
But this isn't, and this is him from seven hundred years past, a time when he still bore the banner of the Demon King. So all she receives is a slight nod of acknowledgement in return. ]
I have no name.
[ Save for his maker's name, but he can't use it while Jikkyu is flaunting it everywhere like a metaphorical crown. ]
I am of the Osafune school. Oda Nobunaga is my master.
[ Not 'was', because he still remembers serving just a few days ago, before the vague long sleep that he interpreted to be his spirit traveling through time. ]
( Losing Mitsutada had been hard on everyone, especially the saniwa who had had felt responsible for the loss. They'd tried to go about their days as usual and eventually, a sense of normalcy did return to the citadel. Being sent out to the front lines no longer brought on a sense of cautious dread and the swords were able to charge into battle as they had before.
As for the saniwa, days had been spent in the forge, trying to bring back a lost comrade. In the process, they'd made many other, new friends which had contributed to the new spirit in the citadel. They were all given their greetings, welcomed into the group, and looked out for but the saniwa always returned to the forge in due time. For as long as the saniwa worked, Mutsunokami hovered nearb. As the saniwa's first sword and chosen secretary, it was his duty to look out for their master.
The day Mitsutada returned had been a lot less celebratory than he-- anyone-- had expected. Of course, they'd made the best of the situation. This was no different than welcoming any other sword for the first time. Welcome home, Mitsutada... who isn't Mitsutada.
Fast forward to today! It's a slow day, with Mutsunokami taking a break from the front lines. Today, it was time for other groups to take the lead. He doesn't mind! After all, he was never much of a warrior's sword to begin with and he much rather preferred to take it easy when he could.
... But the day seems even slower when he's spending it with Nameless Mitsutada. Mutsunokami tries, he really does, but it's difficult being familiar with someone who still regards you as a stranger. Ah... maybe if he got to know him a little better as he is now instead of trying to treat him as he was before? Yes, that seems like a good idea and so, Mutsunokami sits across from him, legs crossed, hands holding onto his ankles, and... watching Mitsutada carefully.
Waking up remembering little except for serving under his first master in a human form, being told that you were now seven hundred years in the future, tasked to fight those who would change history. He could take all of that in stride, because he expected his duty to change, and he did not expect Nobunaga to live forever. What perplexed him was the fact that he had apparently lived before, a different man with more memories, that dying had given him some sort of amnesia - and yet, he did not feel any gap in his recollections. Everyone kept talking about how he used to be, which was frustrating to some extent - because that Mitsutada is not him, and would most likely not be, since there was no way to bring back what he supposedly forgot.
So he did what he always remembers doing, throwing himself back into work to prevent those thoughts from coming back to haunt him. Learning old skills again and putting them into practice, that was how he spent his days.
Even if he doesn't really show it, he is grateful to Mutsu for some extent. The uchigatana did not harp too much on his previous incarnations' deeds, and did not ask too many irrelevant questions. That in itself was very helpful.
And now that they both have a day off together, it was inevitable that they would end up in the same room. Two can sort of play at this game, even if he didn't know it was a game in the first place. He returns Mutsu's attention with his own unwavering purple gaze, sharp but not threatening.
This continues for about a minute before he finally says something. ]
( To be fair, Mutsu was never one to stay stuck in the past. Certainly, he missed his old friend but missing someone doesn't bring them back. Second chances were not things he'd be accustomed to prior to arriving at the citadel and even now, second chances were not guaranteed. All of those hours the saniwa had put into the forge for this Mitsutada was proof of how they close they could have been to never having another chance at all if they'd given up a day or two earlier...
If he'd heard Mitsutada at all, it doesn't seem to register. He's too busy focusing on the guy in front of him. After a moment, he rocks forward and then back and then sits up straight as if he has a purpose, )
I was just thinking...! ( About something very serious. ) If ya're from when ya say ya are... that means I'm older than ya now, right?
( Second youngest sword in Citadel. Asking the important questions. )
Then maybe I should call ya Mitsutada-kun. ( Yeah. This is exactly what he was thinking. ) What d'ya think? Ya've been here long enough so there's no reason to be all formal and everything, right?
I mean... ( The gears in his mind are turning, he's counting on his fingers, he's doing some math. ) There aren't a lot of other guys here younger than me and we're only a couple of centuries apart now! Which really isn't a lot compared to some of the other guys here.
( Except Kane who has to call him Mutsunokami-san! Okay, no, even Kane can call him Mutsu-kun. )
[Lapis never dealt well with failure, so when her negligence causes Mitsutada to be destroyed, she can only throw herself into the forge in an attempt to stop herself becoming overwhelmed by the guilt. She doesn't sleep much, and when she isn't in the forge, she's tending to the others - the thought of actually looking after herself not really dawning on her. Plus she's worked under harsher conditions, so this is nothing, really. She had already failed as a saniwa by letting Mitsutada be destroyed, so she has to try to atone for that.
But maybe it's because she used powers that she shouldn't have, used the abilities from what she was before, but Mitsutada wasn't like Mitsutada. Both in appearance and how he acted, even if he still looked a bit like Mitsutada. It brings an awful knot of hope and guilt in the pit of her stomach, but she manages to keep herself as calm as usual, explaining what was happening and who she is. It was all rather awkward, but she and the others still welcomed him.
At least now, after a couple of weeks, things were starting to settle back into something almost normal. While her failure still stung, she decided that the best thing to do was to try to get to know this new sword better, rather than continually thinking of him as Mitsutada. There was still the issue of a name though; since he didn't really give her one, she would need to think of one but it has to be important, rather than something she just randomly thinks up. But for now, she wants to try to get to know him better and since today is a quiet day, Lapis was doing one of her usual habits of feeding the swords way too much sugar (her other habits being singing and dancing while dragging one of the others to join in), which eventually leads her to peeking her head into the room he's in.]
[ If he thought anything of the existence of his previous self, he did little to show it. Unlike the other Mitsutada, who showed his emotions and opinions freely without restraint; this one never mentions anything unless absolutely necessary. He merely watched the others quietly, observing - but unlike Horikawa, he kept what he saw to himself as well.
When Lapis comes to see him, he is seated on his bed, polishing his true form carefully with a cloth. However, he waits until he can set it aside before looking up. ]
[It's always a difficult thing, when a comrade falls. In ways he's sure others must understand, Horikawa finds it much worse for the fact that he was there, and he was unable to do anything about it. The results speak to that quite loudly in his mind.
And though others haven't blamed him, they don't need to.
Though many human emotions are fresh and somewhat alien, loss is something Horikawa understands perfectly well. What's new is the weighted sense that it could've been changed. He could've done something different. Mitsutada might have been spared, if only...
He doesn't take long to understand that these pervasive thoughts yield nothing useful. And so he goes about his chores just in the way he always has. While others crowd around the forge, he busies himself with their work too. Right now, he simply can't be idle, because those thoughts will crowd in around him again.
Besides, Horikawa isn't sure how he's going to face him. Someone he couldn't help enough]
[ The voices from the forge suddenly go quiet - no doubt their comrade had been brought back. The Saniwa shoos them out of the inner rooms, spending time instructing the newly revived blade of his duty once more - but when she exits, she tells everyone to leave him alone for now. The swords file out of the forge, back to their previous tasks. A few try to sneak back to look, but after they catch a glimpse into the inside of the forge, they end up turning away with uncertain faces.
The day passes without much excitement other than this. When evening rolls by, the sword they welcomed back finally shows himself, standing in an obscure corner of the courtyard.
[Horikawa's heard some unusual comments throughout the day. Some are concerning, and others simply confusing. He knows that Mitsutada has been brought back, but something isn't quite right. That weight that's settled in his gut only seems heavier for the knowledge. It wouldn't be that way if things had gone differently.
He doesn't need the Saniwa's instruction to keep him away. Chores keep him busy for much of the day, well past the point that he's tired himself out. It seems that his mind is never entirely too tired.
Eventually he relents, not wanting to fail anyone because he was too worn-down to properly scout ahead. And so it's with some reluctance that he crosses the courtyard, headed back toward his room...
...Only to find a sword that strikes him as both familiar and not at once.
Was this what the others meant?]
...Mitsutada-san?
[It's a quiet inquiry, half-expecting that he's surely wrong. In a way, he hopes that he is. He doesn't have the right words, just yet, for someone whom he failed]
[ The sword is different. Even though he bears the same visage as the Mitsutada who had died, he had both his eyes intact. And they were purple, too - a very sharp purple, like clear tinted glass, with a light that could have almost been icy. And he holds himself differently, standing at attention, as if poised to strike at any moment.
When Horikawa speaks, his attention is on the smaller sword in an instant. ]
[He's the only one here, Horikawa is sure that they're both well aware. But he doesn't comment upon the obvious. Based on his response, it must be him, even if his bearing seems quite different. There had been no word of an entirely new blade joining their number.
So he steps closer, carrying himself in a manner that might strike as cautious, halting a short distance away]
You're different from when I saw you last.
[He states this plainly, uncertain how many others may have done the same. Better to be honest than cause a misunderstanding while trying to avoid an uncomfortable subject, or spare confusion]
So I wasn't entirely sure if you'd answer to that name or not.
[Sayo never imagined losing a comrade would affected him so deeply. He understood that, by the very nature of war, it's not strange at all to have losses on both sides. They lost many troops over the course of this war, but to lose one of them, a sword, in battle...
The next time Sayo went out into battle after his death, his blade struck harder than before. The enemies he battled with weren't the same ones who took Mitsutada's life, but they're still from the same group. But even as he and his team defeated them on their sortie, Sayo felt...empty inside. Not satisfied at all.
Afterwards, the saniwa have been practically shutting themselves into the forge for days. The only time they leave the room was when one of the swords carried their sleeping form back to their room. Whenever they would wake up, they would immediately return to the forge to continue their work. Sayo had watch them, whenever he's not helping around with chores.
He's not the only one who do, as many of them were anxious to see Mitsutada again. But the question was...when?
The wait have finally comes to an end when they heard the telltale sounds behind the door. The hammer's banging stopped, the sounds of cool water over hot metal... Sayo stared and waited. Until the saniwa came out and dismissed them, telling them to return to their tasks. With some...reluctance? Sayo left.
It's been a while and Sayo, despite his quiet self, have been listening to other swords. Words and whispers about the sword the saniwa summoned. It's Mitsutada. It's him but different. Those stood out in his mind as he walked past them and head for the training hall. As he's about to went past the kitchen area, he instinctively glanced inside by habit. A habit came from seeing the old Mitsutada in the kitchen sometimes.
[ The other swords mostly left him to his own devices. Out of fear, pity, or regret - he knew, by the way their hushed conversations stop whenever he passes, and the light in their eyes that they gave him. If he had any opinion about them, he never did show it - because it simply wasn't necessary. What had happened, had happened. All that remained was the present - something to be seized, and conquered.
Even if he had supposedly come back as a different man, he found it still compelling to take up the duties that his previous self had done. He would have to learn those skills from scratch again, but he did not mind - because it was his duty, and that duty had to be fulfilled.
This Mitustada is in the kitchen, but not doing what the previous Mitsutada did. Instead, he has set out some ingredients and other tools on the counter, but hasn't made any move to actually use them. ]
[Sayo stopped and stared at this Mitsutada, before glancing over at the various items on the counter. If it weren't for his personality and that he's not cooking right now, this scene would be almost nostalgic.
He stayed quiet for a moment, uncertain if he should say anything. But this different Mitsutada might be able to sense Sayo's presence and stare.
[ He does sense Sayo's presence alright, but shows little indication of responding to it. Instead, he continues examining the items for a while more before speaking. ]
Do you need anything?
[ It's certainly different from how the old Mitsutada speaks. His voice is not relaxed, instead strung just enough to convey intent and nothing else. ]
[He heard of how contrasting the differences are, but he never got a chance to personally see them for himself. Until now. Sayo shakes his head and responds.]
No, I don't. [However, curiosity did keep him here.] Are you going to cook?
[Unless he's setting out the ingredients and tools for someone else, it's a reasonable question.]
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It was stressful, waiting. And it was unexpected, the way he went. But now here she is, waiting just outside the entrance to the forge, because Mitsutada has been destroyed. But that was the equivalent of death, and that he potentially wouldn't remember her at all. All of which saddened her. But it would be fine if she could hope? Or at least see him again, just to see him well and healthy again.
And all this time, she was thinking: "What am I even doing here." It won't be the same, but if she could...
Shaking her head, she pushed away such thoughts and looked into the forge to see what was happening.]
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I'm sorry. You'll have to be prepared.
And then she leaves in a swirl of miko robes, scattering cherry blossom petals in her wake.
The forge goes quiet for a good few minutes, while the sword inside processes everything that he has been told. Then the screen door opens, and a lean dark-haired man steps out - purple eyes sharp and acute as he takes in his surroundings.
He doesn't seem to notice her. ]
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If it was that, she's prepared, she considered the possibility. Perhaps that's why the Saniwa was in there for so long. Fine, she can deal.
But the curiosity is still killing her, and she decided to enter the forge. Well, she would have if not for the door opening and she was standing right in front of Mitsutada.
He's well, he's okay, the Saniwa managed to bring him back. This was all she needed, and it took everything to hold back her emotions before she accidentally overwhelmed him.]
Mitsu--...
[She trails off, not because he didn't seen to notice her, or that he was looking around. Rather, he wasn't quite Mitsutada. He had both of his eyes intact, and they were both purple.
...What's happening?]
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When she speaks, he turns immediately to watch her much like a hawk. But then, there is a sliver of confusion across his blank expression. ]
You know me?
[ She called his family name. ]
Who are you?
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Ah... [He doesn't remember her (expected). What she didn't expect was all of this, so it's really taking a huge toll on her. And she's pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate being said that she knew his other version a little more intimately than he would like.]
I know you. Or of you, whichever you prefer. My name is Vietnam. In a way, I am Japan's younger sister.
[She didn't expect it to feel so heavy, reintroducing herself like that.]
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But this isn't, and this is him from seven hundred years past, a time when he still bore the banner of the Demon King. So all she receives is a slight nod of acknowledgement in return. ]
I have no name.
[ Save for his maker's name, but he can't use it while Jikkyu is flaunting it everywhere like a metaphorical crown. ]
I am of the Osafune school. Oda Nobunaga is my master.
[ Not 'was', because he still remembers serving just a few days ago, before the vague long sleep that he interpreted to be his spirit traveling through time. ]
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I lied about sleeping
WELL NOW
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As for the saniwa, days had been spent in the forge, trying to bring back a lost comrade. In the process, they'd made many other, new friends which had contributed to the new spirit in the citadel. They were all given their greetings, welcomed into the group, and looked out for but the saniwa always returned to the forge in due time. For as long as the saniwa worked, Mutsunokami hovered nearb. As the saniwa's first sword and chosen secretary, it was his duty to look out for their master.
The day Mitsutada returned had been a lot less celebratory than he-- anyone-- had expected. Of course, they'd made the best of the situation. This was no different than welcoming any other sword for the first time. Welcome home, Mitsutada... who isn't Mitsutada.
Fast forward to today! It's a slow day, with Mutsunokami taking a break from the front lines. Today, it was time for other groups to take the lead. He doesn't mind! After all, he was never much of a warrior's sword to begin with and he much rather preferred to take it easy when he could.
... But the day seems even slower when he's spending it with Nameless Mitsutada. Mutsunokami tries, he really does, but it's difficult being familiar with someone who still regards you as a stranger. Ah... maybe if he got to know him a little better as he is now instead of trying to treat him as he was before? Yes, that seems like a good idea and so, Mutsunokami sits across from him, legs crossed, hands holding onto his ankles, and... watching Mitsutada carefully.
He's practically staring. Rude. )
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Waking up remembering little except for serving under his first master in a human form, being told that you were now seven hundred years in the future, tasked to fight those who would change history. He could take all of that in stride, because he expected his duty to change, and he did not expect Nobunaga to live forever. What perplexed him was the fact that he had apparently lived before, a different man with more memories, that dying had given him some sort of amnesia - and yet, he did not feel any gap in his recollections. Everyone kept talking about how he used to be, which was frustrating to some extent - because that Mitsutada is not him, and would most likely not be, since there was no way to bring back what he supposedly forgot.
So he did what he always remembers doing, throwing himself back into work to prevent those thoughts from coming back to haunt him. Learning old skills again and putting them into practice, that was how he spent his days.
Even if he doesn't really show it, he is grateful to Mutsu for some extent. The uchigatana did not harp too much on his previous incarnations' deeds, and did not ask too many irrelevant questions. That in itself was very helpful.
And now that they both have a day off together, it was inevitable that they would end up in the same room. Two can sort of play at this game, even if he didn't know it was a game in the first place. He returns Mutsu's attention with his own unwavering purple gaze, sharp but not threatening.
This continues for about a minute before he finally says something. ]
... yes?
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If he'd heard Mitsutada at all, it doesn't seem to register. He's too busy focusing on the guy in front of him. After a moment, he rocks forward and then back and then sits up straight as if he has a purpose, )
I was just thinking...! ( About something very serious. ) If ya're from when ya say ya are... that means I'm older than ya now, right?
( Second youngest sword in Citadel. Asking the important questions. )
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I think so.
[ It did make him the youngest sword, now that he puts some thought into it. ]
Does it matter?
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I mean... ( The gears in his mind are turning, he's counting on his fingers, he's doing some math. ) There aren't a lot of other guys here younger than me and we're only a couple of centuries apart now! Which really isn't a lot compared to some of the other guys here.
( Except Kane who has to call him Mutsunokami-san! Okay, no, even Kane can call him Mutsu-kun. )
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[ Because to him he is still nameless, and swords do not need names to be indicated. ]
I suppose that is workable... but only while I am the only Osafune here, of course.
[ Named ones, hopefully. Even he acknowledges that it is a bit inconvenient to have two nameless swords running around. ]
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But maybe it's because she used powers that she shouldn't have, used the abilities from what she was before, but Mitsutada wasn't like Mitsutada. Both in appearance and how he acted, even if he still looked a bit like Mitsutada. It brings an awful knot of hope and guilt in the pit of her stomach, but she manages to keep herself as calm as usual, explaining what was happening and who she is. It was all rather awkward, but she and the others still welcomed him.
At least now, after a couple of weeks, things were starting to settle back into something almost normal. While her failure still stung, she decided that the best thing to do was to try to get to know this new sword better, rather than continually thinking of him as Mitsutada. There was still the issue of a name though; since he didn't really give her one, she would need to think of one but it has to be important, rather than something she just randomly thinks up. But for now, she wants to try to get to know him better and since today is a quiet day, Lapis was doing one of her usual habits of feeding the swords way too much sugar (her other habits being singing and dancing while dragging one of the others to join in), which eventually leads her to peeking her head into the room he's in.]
... Are you busy?
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When Lapis comes to see him, he is seated on his bed, polishing his true form carefully with a cloth. However, he waits until he can set it aside before looking up. ]
No. Do you need me for anything?
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And though others haven't blamed him, they don't need to.
Though many human emotions are fresh and somewhat alien, loss is something Horikawa understands perfectly well. What's new is the weighted sense that it could've been changed. He could've done something different. Mitsutada might have been spared, if only...
He doesn't take long to understand that these pervasive thoughts yield nothing useful. And so he goes about his chores just in the way he always has. While others crowd around the forge, he busies himself with their work too. Right now, he simply can't be idle, because those thoughts will crowd in around him again.
Besides, Horikawa isn't sure how he's going to face him. Someone he couldn't help enough]
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The day passes without much excitement other than this. When evening rolls by, the sword they welcomed back finally shows himself, standing in an obscure corner of the courtyard.
No one else seems to have noticed him yet. ]
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He doesn't need the Saniwa's instruction to keep him away. Chores keep him busy for much of the day, well past the point that he's tired himself out. It seems that his mind is never entirely too tired.
Eventually he relents, not wanting to fail anyone because he was too worn-down to properly scout ahead. And so it's with some reluctance that he crosses the courtyard, headed back toward his room...
...Only to find a sword that strikes him as both familiar and not at once.
Was this what the others meant?]
...Mitsutada-san?
[It's a quiet inquiry, half-expecting that he's surely wrong. In a way, he hopes that he is. He doesn't have the right words, just yet, for someone whom he failed]
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When Horikawa speaks, his attention is on the smaller sword in an instant. ]
Are you asking for me?
[ The way he says it is as if he isn't sure. ]
You used my family name.
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So he steps closer, carrying himself in a manner that might strike as cautious, halting a short distance away]
You're different from when I saw you last.
[He states this plainly, uncertain how many others may have done the same. Better to be honest than cause a misunderstanding while trying to avoid an uncomfortable subject, or spare confusion]
So I wasn't entirely sure if you'd answer to that name or not.
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I have no name.
[ He pauses to consider his family name, but sets it aside. ]
The saniwa told me. You knew someone who was me... but older. Is that right?
[ If it isn't already evident from his eyes, there is also the Oda crest sewn into his vest. ]
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wow he's such an ass i'm so sorry
it's all good
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The next time Sayo went out into battle after his death, his blade struck harder than before. The enemies he battled with weren't the same ones who took Mitsutada's life, but they're still from the same group. But even as he and his team defeated them on their sortie, Sayo felt...empty inside. Not satisfied at all.
Afterwards, the saniwa have been practically shutting themselves into the forge for days. The only time they leave the room was when one of the swords carried their sleeping form back to their room. Whenever they would wake up, they would immediately return to the forge to continue their work. Sayo had watch them, whenever he's not helping around with chores.
He's not the only one who do, as many of them were anxious to see Mitsutada again. But the question was...when?
The wait have finally comes to an end when they heard the telltale sounds behind the door. The hammer's banging stopped, the sounds of cool water over hot metal... Sayo stared and waited. Until the saniwa came out and dismissed them, telling them to return to their tasks. With some...reluctance? Sayo left.
It's been a while and Sayo, despite his quiet self, have been listening to other swords. Words and whispers about the sword the saniwa summoned. It's Mitsutada. It's him but different. Those stood out in his mind as he walked past them and head for the training hall. As he's about to went past the kitchen area, he instinctively glanced inside by habit. A habit came from seeing the old Mitsutada in the kitchen sometimes.
But now...?]
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Even if he had supposedly come back as a different man, he found it still compelling to take up the duties that his previous self had done. He would have to learn those skills from scratch again, but he did not mind - because it was his duty, and that duty had to be fulfilled.
This Mitustada is in the kitchen, but not doing what the previous Mitsutada did. Instead, he has set out some ingredients and other tools on the counter, but hasn't made any move to actually use them. ]
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He stayed quiet for a moment, uncertain if he should say anything. But this different Mitsutada might be able to sense Sayo's presence and stare.
Is he going to cook...?]
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Do you need anything?
[ It's certainly different from how the old Mitsutada speaks. His voice is not relaxed, instead strung just enough to convey intent and nothing else. ]
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No, I don't. [However, curiosity did keep him here.] Are you going to cook?
[Unless he's setting out the ingredients and tools for someone else, it's a reasonable question.]
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