the treasures of the genji clan are remarkable in their own right. they hail from the age of warriors, and were held in the palms of some of the most formidable men in history. for that reason, higekiri is not afraid of battle. it is what he was forged for, and he steps onto every battlefield with the same eagerness as one would engage in a dance. one, two, three enemies fall in just as many steps. their captain will take lead against the strongest, but higekiri can at the very least help fell the mobs.
distantly he knows that hizamaru is close by and they are able to fight in unison without so much of a speck of hesitation. they are as close as they have ever been, and in moments like this higekiri feels like their steel resonates as one just as it did so long ago.
but battle is battle, and he cannot slice what he does not expect nor see. the enemy also uses teamwork, and one intercepts higekiri's blade while another darts in close. this time it is someone else's steel that slides between his ribs, and not for the first time he thinks that these human bodies are too frail. the red that splatters out of his mouth is unseemly.
distantly, he hears that the captain has slain the lead of the revisionists—that's good. all he needs to do now is just keep the others at bay until they're mowed down. which is perhaps why he lets his own grip dig tightly into the wrist of the hra that's stabbed him, keeping him in place as a name leaves his lips:]
Hizamaru—
[finish it. is what he'd say - but the next cough of blood intervenes.
i kill higekiri like god intended
things happen.
the treasures of the genji clan are remarkable in their own right. they hail from the age of warriors, and were held in the palms of some of the most formidable men in history. for that reason, higekiri is not afraid of battle. it is what he was forged for, and he steps onto every battlefield with the same eagerness as one would engage in a dance. one, two, three enemies fall in just as many steps. their captain will take lead against the strongest, but higekiri can at the very least help fell the mobs.
distantly he knows that hizamaru is close by and they are able to fight in unison without so much of a speck of hesitation. they are as close as they have ever been, and in moments like this higekiri feels like their steel resonates as one just as it did so long ago.
but battle is battle, and he cannot slice what he does not expect nor see. the enemy also uses teamwork, and one intercepts higekiri's blade while another darts in close. this time it is someone else's steel that slides between his ribs, and not for the first time he thinks that these human bodies are too frail. the red that splatters out of his mouth is unseemly.
distantly, he hears that the captain has slain the lead of the revisionists—that's good. all he needs to do now is just keep the others at bay until they're mowed down. which is perhaps why he lets his own grip dig tightly into the wrist of the hra that's stabbed him, keeping him in place as a name leaves his lips:]
Hizamaru—
[finish it. is what he'd say - but the next cough of blood intervenes.
ah well, he'll understand.]