sticksandbones IC Inbox

[bluebasketballed]

powers nerfed & gained
❆ - superhuman strength: nerfed to the point he couldn't destroy, like, a building in one hit, but even hakuji as a human could punch people's bones apart so good luck!
❆ - self healing: nerfed from instant to delayed 5-10 minutes.
❆ + conditional sunlight immunity: an enchanted anklet that nullifies the harmful effects of sunlight and sun-based magic so long as he is wearing it.

deaths & resurrection prices
none..... YET

other permanent changes
❆ scarring - november 2025: a solid scar the width of his fist at the crux of his ribcage and at the same height on his back, implying impalement. any sensation to this scar, including pain, is shared with kyojuro.


weasel's note: akaza's handwriting is the very sad and choppy scrawl of a man who barely knows how to write. the netbook is just polite enough to make it legible. i just type it in all lowercase bc i'm too lazy to pick out the spelling/handwriting mistakes. thank u for your understanding. i'm having fun now thx

he lives at the inn, the room next to kyojuro's. his window is boarded up from the inside. it is very dark in there. mentitycave

he lives at the soryu dojo south of the river, in koyuki's old room. he offers unarmed self-defense training at the dojo.


plotting contact: PM // discord @ fuckweasel

Comments

[tempurahair]

[Though it may not be Kyojuro's duty to clean up, he won't simply abandon Akaza to the task. He lingers close by, but silent. Thankfully, Akaza won't have to worry about him staring or judging the whole time. In fact, his gaze seems to settle anywhere but on his companion. He takes in the surroundings, the strange advancements that, even after nearly a month, he has not fully adjusted to. He can't helpbut wonder if this is what a world without demons could truly accomplish.

Or maybe demonic influence didn't matter at all. After all, something worse than that seemed to lurk within those trees.

Still, his attention is not so spread thin that he doesn't pick up on Akaza's words. Kyojuro's gaze snaps to the other man. There's an almost weighty pause, before Kyojuro finally nods.]

You may. On one condition. I will hear nothing of the wounds being your fault.

[bluebasketballed]

[akaza rolls his eyes and scoffs, but nods nonetheless.]

Fine. Come on.

[he'll lead them both up to kyojuro's room and begin to pick at the medical supplies they surely have squared away for his recovery.]

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro is quiet as he makes his way to the bed. At some point, he probably either sent Akaza off to grab a loose shirt from Heimr, or just found one. Either way, it's a button up, and a bit easier to wear around instead of his damn uniform. That doesn't mean he isn't the slightest bit stiff as he unbuttons it though, or when he has to pull the damn thing from his arms.

Thankfully, the wounds themselves seem to be healing well enough. It's hard to say if it's any slower or faster than normal, but at least they don't appear infected, or to be getting worse.]

[bluebasketballed]

[akaza's hands appear to be a bit more steady with this sort of work, now. he still has a lot of relearning to do to use his hands to heal and not just harm, but goddamn, he's trying. and while he's here, he uses the salve that joshua gave kyojuro for the old chest and back wound.

once everything is wrapped up again, akaza hesitates.]

Do you need help washing? [he can't imagine it's pleasant to reach everywhere with these wounds.]

[tempurahair]

[Being that he's no stranger to medical attention, Kyojuro proves to be a most compliant patient. He moves as he needs to, not even breathing a single complaint, even when the bandages pull at raw skin, or the antiseptic burns at his wounds. Predictably, his own breaths remain almost painfully even. The only evidence of any amount of distress likely comes from the way Kyojuro refuses to look at his own wounds. He watches Akaza's hands when they're away from his own body, but when those hands drift closer to Kyojuro's form, they flick up toward the ceiling.

If he doesn't see it, he can pretend they're coming together nicely, right?

Still, Akaza's question takes Kyojuro by surprise. He finds his head tilting, lips pursing, before he gives a shrug.]

I have managed well enough with worse. [He... probably hasn't, but the way he chuckles through, maybe Akaza will see it as confidence.] Besides, I would hate to scandalize you any further.

[bluebasketballed]

[kyojuro asks akaza not to blame himself, but he won't even look at the wounds he received because of him. still, he agreed not to bring it up, so akaza does, in fact, keep his mouth shut. that doesn't mean he's happy about it, of course.]

I didn't ask if you could manage. I asked if you wanted help.

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro's head bows as he thinks about it. It's... probably for the best. Beyond piecemeal efforts to scrape the residual blood off of himself after the initial attack, Kyokuro hasn't really been able to clean off properly. He might be used to running through the muck, familiar with being caked in sweat and blood for days on end as duty carried him from location to location without proper rest, but he doesn't have to like it.

Kyojuro inhales slowly, then gives a quick nod.]

If you are volunteering, I will accept it.

[bluebasketballed]

[with a nod, akaza makes for the door once again.]

I'll be right back, then.

[when he returns, it's with a bowl, a few towels, and soap. a quick pop into the bathroom for water, and... hm...]

Do you think you could sit in the chair and tilt your head back comfortably over the sink?

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro watches silently, albeit curiously, as Akaza assembles everything he needs. It's strange, that Akaza assembles everything needed without seeming to need to pause for thought. With how easily they're able to disintegrate blood lingering on their skin, Kyojuro would have thought any given demon would have forgotten the need for such habits. But then, Akaza was a far cry from any demon Kyojuro had ever met nowadays.

His head tilts slightly at Akaza's question. Experimentally, he dips his head back. While he does feel the bandages shift a touch, they don't begin to pull at his wounds.]

It should not be an issue, I don't think. Where do you need me first?

[bluebasketballed]

Come on, then. Top to bottom, or you'll just get dirty again.

[he lifts the desk chair and moves it into the bathroom, against the sink. it doesn't even occur to him how practiced he is in this process, or how long it's been since he's done it.]

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro doesn't follow, not right away at least. Instead, he finds himself staring after Akaza, no small amount of bewilderment on his face. This is far too practiced for it to not be familiar to the other man. He sifts through the few conversations they've had about Akaza's past, though, and ultimately comes up with no evidence to support his claim.

So in the end, he hefts himself up and follows after. He rumbles faintly with laughter as he settles down, head ducked back over the sink as directed.]

I suppose this is how Senjuro must feel, when I hover over him so incessantly.

[He reaches up, wincing faintly as his fingers find his hair, then the tie pulling the bulk of his hair out of his face.]

I trust you to be careful! This is a family heirloom, you know.

[The... the hair? Brother...]

[bluebasketballed]

[a brow quirks as akaza runs the sink and splashes water over kyojuro's hair. the man is lucky he isn't in a mood to splash him in the face.]

Your hair? Yes, typically that is inherited.

[tempurahair]

[The water is pleasant enough for Kyojuro to relax all the further. The sigh he lets out is a deep, pleased one.]

That isn't what I meant! It has run in our family for generations! They say the women in our family would stare at a fire for hours on end, once a week. However - [He laughs hard enough to disturb... whatever it is Akaza's doing.] I prefer the story in which I ate too much tempura, and dyed my hair myself!

[bluebasketballed]

Be careful, you're going to splash soap in your eye --

[and a huff.] Eating too much tempura can't dye your hair.

[...] Did it?

[tempurahair]

If I get soap in my eye, maybe the person with the soap should have been more careful!

[Another bout of laughter starts up, and yes, the soap does fly. If he regrets anything, it doesn't show. Save maybe the way his eye begins to water.]

It did not for me, I don't think. At least, I have never seen Senjuro eat near the amount of tempura I have. Never mind the fact that he was born with such hair.

[Okay maybe he'll wipe at his eye once.]

Kanroji, though. She says that Sakura mochi caused her hair to turn the color that it did. So perhaps there is something to it!

[bluebasketballed]

[SIGHS.] Hold still. [akaza soaks a washcloth with fresh water and dabs at kyojuro's stupid soapy eye.

HOPEFULLY he can wash the rest of kyojuro's hair without the man causing further trouble for himself.]

You demon slayers really are the strangest humans, you know that?

[tempurahair]

[Hm. There is something to be said about Akaza's hand against his face, namely when it comes with such a tender touch. Where he might have found himself guffawing, he stills — quieted, but not discomforted, by the gesture. Perhaps his head even tilts just slightly, pressing into that touch before he knows what to do with himself.

Still, he can't help but crack a grin at that addendum.]

You are right about that. I think each and every one of us has a tale that gets stranger and stranger. Our master truly knew how to pick us.

[bluebasketballed]

[kyojuro das gay --

the same could probably be said of akaza, though, given how methodical he is about it.]

You were a shoe-in, though, weren't you? Because of your lineage.

[tempurahair]

[Something warm stirs within Kyojuro's chest, awakened by that gentle touch. Even that night at the bar a few weeks prior had failed to fully elicit such a feeling.

Akaza seems to draw such strange feelings out of him, doesn't he?]

In a way, yes! I still had to earn it, just as any other slayer would. [His expression falters, just a touch.] There was a lower moon ravaging a city in my father's territory. He had long since fallen from grace, and so when he was summoned, I offered to go in his stead. [He pauses for just a moment. This is, technically, classified corps information. In theory, he shouldn't go blabbing it. But just as soon as the thought passes through Kyojuro's mind, he keeps on going.

He's long since stopped thinking of Akaza as a demon. Or at least just a demon.]

In the corps, the requirement to become a Hashira is this: as a Kinoe, slay 50 demons, or one of the twelve kizuki. And so, the master challenged me: if I wished to stand in my father's stead, I would need to slay the demon in the city.

And so I did.

[bluebasketballed]

[it isn't like akaza has the opportunity to go back to the world of the living and share this information. even if he could, he would refuse, and he suspects kyojuro understands this, else he wouldn't be sharing it.

akaza uses the bowl to help rinse the soap from kyojuro's hair. he will be more careful about it than kyojuro's own animated self.]

You saw a need and felt the responsibility to correct it by any means. Typical Kyojuro. [where a few weeks ago, he snarled at kyojuro over his heroic tendencies, his tone is almost fond, now. no, not almost -- it is.]

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro remains... largely still as Akaza rinses out his hair. There's something to be said about fingers carding through the individual strands. Methodical though Akaza may be, the faint tug against his roots, paired with the overall gentle touch, serves to be quite lulling.

Not that he gets too lost in the sensation to speak. It just might come out a bit softer, more subdued.]

What other choice was there? Humans were dying, and more than that, the other Hashira were suffering. In my father's absence, the others were having to take on his territory. When you are spread that thin, things begin to slip through the cracks. Moreover, fatigue begins to set in, and mistakes happen.

The best way to preserve life, all life was for me to do what I needed to. [When he shrugs, it's a very small motion, careful not to disturb himself or Akaza.] Besides, it all fell into the realm of that promise I made.

[bluebasketballed]

[once his hair is rinsed, akaza takes a towel to it. even the act of rubbing locks of hair between folds of the towel is exceedingly gentle; despite how long it's been, these motions seem ingrained into his muscles, still. and oddly enough, they seem to relax him as much as they once did. if it weren't for the pallid skin marked with blue, he might even forget that he's no longer human.]

You protected many human lives in your time.

It must have been recent, that you were made Hashira. That one is terribly young, but surely he's an outlier.

[tempurahair]

[The relaxation, then, is mutual. Kyojuro isn't sure when his eye slipped closed, but it is now. He has no intention of opening it any time soon, either. When was the last time he savored a tender touch, anyway? Usually any romps he had with his colleagues were more frenetic, resulting from the endless sort of energy that only a Hashira could embody.]

I believe so, yes. Over two-hundred alone on the mugen train, never mind how many were in the city that day. To say nothing of the deaths I prevented by taking action sooner, rather than later.

[He hums, low in his throat.]

It has been a few years, actually. There were six of us at the time, and nine including myself at the time of my passing. Tokito, Iguro, and Kanroji joined after I did.

Not that age has any particular bearing. Kocho and Tomioka are younger than I, but they were named Hashira before me.

[bluebasketballed]

[kyojuro has so much hair that it'd take hours to towel dry all the way, so akaza leaves the towel draped over it for now. in turn, he motions for kyojuro to sit up straight again to get comfortable, and wets a smaller rag with warm water. just as systematic as washing his hair, he dabs first at kyojuro's forehead, then cheeks, jaw, neck, and so on.]

Giyu's your junior? I guess that makes sense. He does have sort of a babyish face, but his swordsmanship is just as remarkable. You know he blocked over a dozen shots at once with just one swing and step?

[tempurahair]

[Kyojuro's face feels... oddly warm beneath the rag. He takes it to be a coincidence, perhaps little more than the effect of the warmth seeping from the water. It certainly has nothing to do with the careful, deliberate touches that Akaza administers, or the proximity of both of their forms.

He does startle faintly, at the sound of Giyu's given name. His eye cracks open, while his brow simultaneously lifts.]

I wasn't aware you two were acquainted with one another! [And despite it all, Kyojuro finds himself laughing.] I should not be surprised that you were so attuned with his skills with a blade. His style was very complementary to my own, you know. I suppose that would not be a surprise, considering the opposite nature of flame and water, though.