excaliburden | ic inbox.

[ It's interesting, how despite their similarities, their differences can be so diametrically opposed. She complements him, in a way.

A treasure.. she'd rather miss him than never know him at all. ... he'd been thinking the opposite, truthfully. That he'd rather never know her at all than get hurt. But. But would have truly never wanted to know the people of Tatarasuna, and his unnamed family?

...he has fond memories of them too. He's glad he has them. Maybe he could understand Altria's point of view better than he thought.

Either way, her words are a reassurance that his feelings will not be a burden for her. He has no more reason to delay. ]

...there's a sword forging technique known as the Isshin Art in Inazuma, my homeland. The art strives for harmony between the mind of the swordsmith and the blade from the moment the forging begins. In other words, the sword, when forged well, represents the purest desires of the swordsmith.

[ The topic change seems like a non-sequitur, but as he speaks he pulls the sheathed blade from its position by his waist and holds it towards Altria with both his hands. ]

There's another custom in my homeland, where the best blade a swordsmith produces of a design is called the 'shinuchi' and presented to the Electro Archon—the God of Eternity, as a ceremonial sword, never to be soiled with blood.

[ He raises the sword towards her with an earnest expression. ]

This is for you. For you to protect yourself with if necessary.

[ There's an unsaid "but" in the sentence, however. Combined with the explanation he just offered, it seems he doesn't actually want her to use the blade and soil it. Because for as long as this simulation lasts, he intends to be by her side and protect her, so that she'll never have to draw that blade.

Whether or not Altria picks up on that meaning though...it's fine, either way. He knows what he's swearing to by giving her this sword. ]

[... Huh?

He pulls the sheathed blade from his waist and holds it towards her, and Altria can only stare.

In the end, though Altria is not from the same culture as him, and does not have the same understandings of the traditions of Inazuma, she is still, in all of the ways that matter, the daughter of a swordsmith. Ector probably would not have thought of her that way, she thinks wistfully--but he raised her, and taught her what she knows, and her fondest of fond memories are of the forge.

"The best blade a swordsmith produces," he says, and she knows fully well just how valuable such a thing is--far beyond monetarily, too. That is the pride of a smith. That is something a smith has put their all into.

That is--

--a smith's heart.]

[She reaches out, and touches the sheath with trembling fingers.

At first, that seems to be all she can manage to do--just to touch the sheath, eyes wide as she stares at the gift he's offering to her.

To protect yourself with if necessary, but she knows if this is meant to be a ceremonial blade, it is not supposed to be used. As he said--it should not be soiled. This is a different sort of gift, rather than a weapon.

Altria drags in a shaky breath, and finally closes her fingers around the sheath gently, pulling the sword towards herself.]

I...

[... She's known how in love she is with him for a little while now. So many stolen moments, so many moments she couldn't even be sure were real. So many small acts of kindness, so many moments where he allowed her to see the person he is, heart and soul. All of it together combined to become a person that she loves, even if a Faerie of Paradise like her isn't supposed to love people.

She is anyway. She can't help it.

I'm in love with you, she thinks. You are my treasure. And in the deepest parts of her heart, the ones she tries so hard not to acknowledge--I want to stay with you.

What she says, instead, softly, is:]

I've never... held anything this precious before. I--

[She's so used to giving up the things she loves, after having them taken from her so many times. But this time--this time--]

--I don't ever want to let it go. No, I... I won't ever give it up...!

[And she carefully grasps the hilt of the sword and gently moves to pull some of it from its sheath, so she can see the blade.]

[ He watches quietly, absorbing all of her reaction—the tremble of her fingers, the expression of surprise and the realization of this gift's meaning. The slight apprehension and then determination; the way her grip changes so that she has a firm grasp, but still gentle and delicate in her touch—the feeling that washes over him at this moment, it's—

His chest no longer feels empty. It is warm and full.

The blade gleams as Altria pulls it out of its sheath. The hamon is an evenly spaced wave, beautiful in its simplicity. The sword as a whole is uncomplicated in appearance, with a guard that resembles the flower-like design of the Wanderer's hat and a red braided thread tied to the end of the hilt, but it's in this simplicity that the truth is revealed. Anyone with an eye for swords would be able to tell that the blade is extremely well-crafted. Perhaps bordering the quality of work that could be considered a swordsmith's magnum opus. He truly put his heart into its creation. ]

It's yours.

[ I'm yours. ]

[Ah... She hears the unspoken words. She can see the passion, the determination, the craft that went into this sword.

It's the most beautiful sword she's ever seen, she thinks.

It's more beautiful than Excalibur.

--Her throat feels tight. She admires the blade until she can't any longer, because her eyes are too blurred by tears.

And then she lifts her head to try to meet his eyes, even blurry as hers are.]

I-it's... it's beautiful, Yuu. [He's beautiful, stunning in his kindness, his determination to keep moving forward, in all of the tragedies that have made him the person he is.

... She sheathes the sword again, gently, and drags a slow breath in. There are tears on her cheeks now, but she finds that when she tries to smile, it comes easier than she expects--and it's honest. Huh. In the end... saying these words is easier than she expected, too.]

I love you. [Unlike her usual, she doesn't blurt the words out. They're said deliberately, wobbly but certain.] I really... really love you...!

[ He reaches out wipe the tears that roll down her cheeks with his hand, before gently settling it on her cheek. Her smile is so sweet. His, in response, is sweet as well, full of love and affection.

That fullness in his chest is starting to overflow, threatening to burst out as tears in his eyes. So he leans in and pulls her into a kiss. One that is finally, finally not driven by any external influences.

And when he pulls back, he stays close to respond to her words quietly, but resolutely. ]

I love you too.

[She tilts her face into his touch automatically, sniffling a little. She can't imagine it's attractive, the way that her nose is red and her eyes are teary and there are streaks down her cheeks, but--

--He pulls her in for a proper kiss anyway.

No outside influences. Not because they're about to die. No, this time, it's because he wants to, and it's... so easy to melt into it, and to trust in that.

It feels like an eternity, and also too brief, and then he pulls back, and she sniffles again--but laughs, too, watery but warm.]

... Oh. I see.

[She gets it now.]

I'm so... happy. [This... is what happiness feels like, unrestrained, isn't it?

She has the sword in one hand, but she reaches out with the other, ever-so-gently grasping his sleeve in her fingers.]

... I hope you are too.

[ He has to remember this moment. Burn the sight of her into his memory, and the feelings into his heart. If hatred and rage could carry him through centuries, surely the same could be said for love and joy. His time with her is so short—he can't afford to waste another moment.

Driven by that desire, that desperation, he leans in again to brush her lips with his again, featherlight. His arm curls around her waist and holds her close. His other hand continues to brush the tears away. ]

Of course. Can't you tell? You're holding my heart now.

[ The smile on his face is soft, and truly happy. ]

[Oh. Her cheeks go bright red at that, and she laughs again, despite herself--it's such a heartfelt and sweet thing to say, and she can tell that he's speaking from the heart sincerely, but at the same time, isn't it the sort of thing Midnight would say?

Thankfully, he kisses her again before she can ruin the moment and make that comparison--and that's enough to make her feel a little bolder.

Besides, he's right. She has the sword--and he's right here with her, right now. So she leans in for another kiss, tears finally stopping as everything sinks in properly.]

Yuu... you're so romantic...! [She didn't know he had it in him! (At the same time, she knows he means every word, which is causing her heart to thump so rapidly in her chest.)]

Like a prince in a story, or--well, a really, really romantic swordsmith! [That's exactly what he is. It's not a common story trope but she thinks it fits.]

[ He used to be so disgusted by the blatant affection couples showed each other but—he gets it now. The kisses are addictive and the urge to drown her in affection is overwhelming.

It's one of the few times he's truly let himself loose and indulged in such sweet feelings. This was a flavour that perhaps he wouldn't mind tasting every once in a while.

He snorts at the comparison. ]

I don't think swordsmiths are usually who people think of when they think about romance.

[ He takes the hand that's gripping his sleeve and presses a kiss to the back of it. His voice drops low and he looks up to her through his eyelashes. ]

But if we're going to do this, I have to woo you properly, don't I?

[ He is absolutely teasing her again. ]

[She's so busy reeling from the kisses and the affection that she's not at all prepared for his teasing--he takes her hand, brushes his lips against the back of it and she feels the way that a shiver travels up her entire spine, base to neck.

The noise that escapes her at his words is a startled squawk that she aborts promptly, shoving her free hand over her mouth so that she can't embarrass herself more in front of him.

(Not that... she really minds, she finds.

Is that because he understands her so well already?)

Regardless, she huffs, cheeks puffing out, but doesn't pull her hand away from his.]

W-w-what are you talking about?! You already have--

[Oh. Oh no that's embarrassing too.]

I, I mean...!

Ooooh, Yuu, you're just winding me up again, aren't you?

[ Affection and joy is all he feels when he sees her like this. He really is completely smitten by her, isn't he? Or perhaps he takes way too much joy from messing with people, Altria included.

Either way, he grins, all cheeky and amused by her reaction. ]

You didn't think I would stop now, did you? Not when you make such cute reactions.

[ He's turning up that charm to the max now that he doesn't have to pretend that he doesn't want to flirt with her. ]

[Oooooh!!! Knowing that he's just winding her up makes it easier for her to act impulsively--

(With the warm knowledge in the depths of her heart that he likes her, he loves her, he wants to be with her, he truly knows her and still--)

--she reaches out to try to snag both of his cheeks in her hands, scowling determinedly, and fiercely presses their lips together again.

And when she pulls back, she sticks her tongue out at him, palms still on his cheeks.]

[ He's not on guard with her—he's keeping an eye on their surroundings, even like this, but with her, he isn't expecting anything. So she succeeds in her retaliation and catches him off guard entirely. ]

[ The kiss leaves him breathless and stunned, unused to Altria taking the lead in these intimate encounters. He stares with wide eyes and flushed cheeks for just a moment, completely unguarded, before he tries to conceal it behind a smirk. The red cheeks and the slight tilt of his head away, even as he keeps his eyes on her, are a sign that he's flustered. ]

Oh, so you're finally growing bold now? Are you sure you're ready for the consequences?

[For a moment, she gets to feel smug. He looks stunned and surprised, thrown off-guard by her response. Altria has enough time to think that she wants to see him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes much more often, and if it's kisses that do it, well, that's all the better, because she likes those, too--

--oh.]

Conse--

[And, in a squeak:]

--quences...? D-don't be silly, you're just trying to save face because you were totally flustered there, right? Right?

[... Right???]

[ He brings his face closer to hers, using a hand to gently hold her chin as he murmurs in that familiar lower tone, breathy and heated. ]

Surely you don't think this is all to my kissing skills, do you?

[ And while she's distracted by his proximity, the hand drops from her chin to ghost down the front of her outfit, starting from the dip of her shirt's collar to just below the knot of the bow. His touch is almost non-existent—just enough to make her aware of its presence. ]

Or perhaps...

[ And he leans over to whisper into her ear. ]

...you want more?

[Then thing is... when his fingers lightly rest right beneath her bow, when he leans in to whisper in her ear, she realizes immediately and starkly--

(Yes. She does. If it's him, if it's him, then... she can feel confident in that.)

So her face flushes bright red, but there's a... challenging sort of fierceness to her gaze, and instead of ducking her head, she lifts her chin.]

W-well...! So... so what if I do!

[oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh, she just--she just...!

Her face is fully red now, as bright as a tomato, and her eyes avert for a moment as it all sinks in--]

I--I mean...!

[A beat.

She pauses, and then takes a deep breath in. Her cheeks are still red, but she presses her lips together and lifts her chin and looks at him firmly, head on.

The sword is still in her waistband, pressed close to her side, and when she thinks about that beautiful confession he gave her, when she thinks about how there's no way she could ever doubt how he feels about her, then--]

... No. That's what I meant. [So what if she does?]

[ The honest admission surprises him again. He was expecting her to fluster, blush and stammer over the thought of doing something so intimate, especially so quickly after confessing their feelings, but evidently she was braver than he thought.

It's honest, her words, and without any intention to tease him back, but he feels something in him flip and a flush threatening to bloom on his face. But he does his best not to show any of that, remaining close to her for a moment before chuckling and pulling back, letting his hand drop to his side. ]

Eager to have my hands all over you, hm? But there's no need to rush that quickly.

[ The calm words hide a fluster he knows Altria will pick up, so he looks away, as if that would make it less obvious. It doesn't help that his ears are bright red, which can be seen through the locks of his hair swaying as he turns away. ]

[Oh yes, she absolutely can tell. It helps temper some of her own embarrassment, because she is firmly aware of what she just told him she was willing--no, completely interested in. But her chin remains lifted, stubbornly, because she's not about to take it back.

A slow breath in.

And then he looks away, and she feels a little weak at the knees, but also like she's able to breathe again.]

W-well...! Well, that's... that's fine! We don't need to rush or anything!

[In fact, she'd rather they take their time. She's enough of a romantic to want it to be... as romantic as she's dreamed of having. But--when it comes down to it, she wants him to know.

She wants the same things.]

I was just...saying! In fact, that's probably better. To, um, take our time, I mean. That's what I meant to say all along! [Sure. She's as transparent as ever.]

[ It's now, when he's not looking at her, that the magnitude of his confession sets in. He's never been this honest about his feelings. He's never felt so strongly for another. Even if Altria had reciprocated, it's—a lot.

His short bangs fail to hide the reddening of his cheeks as he continues to look away, and he doesn't respond, letting the conversation die and silence settle in its place.

It's a heavy, awkward silence. ]

...

[He falls silence, continuing to look away, and for a moment, Altria's own embarrassment is shoved aside in favor of wondering if she broke him. She blinks, peering at him curiously, and then smiles a little to herself.

Ah.

With the weight of that sword at her side still, she's not afraid of things like him being disgusted with her for being so bold or anything like that. Not when such a tangible, solid, wonderful example of his love is right there for her to touch. Which means... he's embarrassed, right?]

Yuu... let's take things at our own pace, okay? Like--not just that, but everything.

[Everything about this new, gentle, warm relationship they're embarking on.]

I'm not very experienced at this sort of thing, but... that's what I want too. I'm sure of it.

[ He manages to glance back at her, though it's reluctant. The emotions he's feeling right now—it's all new, all overwhelming. And Altria's gentle smile is—it's also too much, to be the recipient of such warm emotions.

But to pull away and try to shield himself from them... That's not what he wants to do. He doesn't want to keep deflecting people, keep trying to hide. Especially not with Altria. That's why he confessed in the first place.

He still ends up with a smirk on his face, though he knows it's like pulling a clear veil over Altria's eyes. It's useless to hide his timidness. ]

Don't worry, I won't complain even if you want to go at a snail's pace.

[ It might be him who wants to go at that pace though... ]

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