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

[bluebasketballed]

[even as akaza dances in and out of reach of the sword, he realizes how much he's missed this. not just the thrill of a fight, or even the threat of a nichirin sword, but the bright red of kyojuro's, specifically -- his burning forms, his blazing fighting spirit. all of it, aimed at him. for him.

he bares his fangs in a wild smile as he allows the very tip of kyojuro's blade to bite into his throat. it's so shallow it may as well be a paper cut, but the feeling of his own blood on his skin only further excites him.]

We would cause, you mean! Don't you think we make perfect partners in crime? [as soon as kyojuro looks up from the extinguished spark, akaza is upon him. he doesn't put his blood demon arts behind his punches, because that truly would destroy their surroundings, but he throws them at blinding speed nonetheless, even as he continues advancing on kyojuro.]

[tempurahair]

[Is it the rivulet of blood trickling from Akaza's throat that fills Kyojuro with such a thrill? Or is it the smile that is devoted to him and only him. Either way, something in his heart stirs, and he can't find it in himself to quell it.

To say nothing of we. Of perfect partners. It's a good thing Akaza waits to strike, considering how dizzying those thoughts become. How ridiculous.]

Never - [He swipes to the right, seeking to severing the hand completely. He doesn't flinch from doing so this time. It will heal. Akaza will heal.] once have I - [The next blow he cuts down the middle if Akaza does not shy away, blade slicing like butter between the knuckles of the middle and forefinger. Kyojuro steps back with a twist, regardless of whether or not the blade sunk into Akaza's skin.] Doubted it.

[If the assault continues, then Kyojuro continues sliding back, step by step. It's not exactly easy to gain ground in an attack like this.]

[bluebasketballed]

[despite kyojuro's insistence that he's as good as new, akaza underestimates him. the blade doesn't sever his entire hand, but the upper half of it and his thumb. there's only a short burst of blood before he manipulates his own veins to close in on themselves; even if he won't heal right away, he's realized he can at least do this. the brief startle on his face is replaced with yet more blood-crazed glee when kyojuro cuts nearly through his other hand. he could probably still attack with it, but decides to take the opportunity to exercise his legs instead.

kyojuro has only treated akaza with kindness and trust, after that first encounter in the forest. still, his words cut deeper than the nichirin, and fuel him onward.]

If I didn't know you better, I might not believe that! What a pair we are!

[still pushing the offense, he alternates kicks at kyojuro's shins, then knees, directing him around the courtyard while avoiding any structures. he waits for what he perceives as the slightest opening in kyojuro's swordplay before aiming to strike his foot squarely on the man's breast -- where if it connects, should knock him backward, but avoid the scar in his torso.]

[tempurahair]

[Any satisfaction that Kyojuro might feel at not one, but two successful cuts is short-lived. He should have expected that drawing any amount of blood was bound to encourage Akaza all the more. Insatiable did not begin to explain the battle-craze that ran through the other man. Some small part of Kyojuro wonders what it might have been like in that previous life, being equally matched with Hakuji and spending hours like this.

A thrill floods through Kyojuro. No, he wouldn't have minded that at all. He meets Akaza's shift with a wild grin of his own, even if he is placed on the back foot by this new tack.]

We did promise to challenge one another further in our own goals, did we not?

[Introducing his legs presents a new challenge. Earlier, Kyojuro might have considered himself almost familiar with Akaza's attacks. Though Kyojuro is able to deflect and dodge, he isn't able to make much forward progress. At most, he's able to detect that Akaza is steadily moving upward with his assault.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time that fourth form would serve as an adequate deflection from Akaza's onslaught. Kyojuro shifts his footing, moving to lift his blade —

only to take that foot straight to his chest. Air rushes from his lungs, interrupting his breathing. He does fall back, knocked prone for the briefest of moments. He keeps his grip on his sword, however, blindly lifting it to hold it above himself in the scant seconds he knows he has left before Akaza is on him.]

cw akaza being akaza (freak [derogatory])

[bluebasketballed]

[part of him does hope that kyojuro is able to execute that form -- akaza has found he enjoys watching the former hashira nearly as much as parrying him. alas, even a single human in top form is still no match for an upper rank, and is relegated to the flat of his back. it flips some instinctual switch in the demon's brain.

if akaza truly wants to kill kyojuro, all he needs to do now is simply crush his head from above. instead, his pupils dilate and he pounces like an animal, landing over kyojuro with ruined hands on the ground at either side of his torso. he allows the sword to press against the thin cut already in his throat, pushing his face ever closer to kyojuro with no concern for his own safety.

just as much as the man trusts him, akaza knows with certainty that kyojuro will not decapitate him. even so, that smile full of sharp teeth edges ever closer to human flesh, until his lips part and his fangs indent -- but do not yet pierce -- the skin above kyojuro's jugular.

seconds drag into an eternity for akaza as he feels kyojuro's throbbing pulse through his own teeth. he inhales deeply the smell of sweat laid atop that familiar campfire scent, and, allowing his eyes to flutter shut, imagines (in a way that feels delightfully filthy to every cell in his body and his very soul) how much more satisfying kyojuro's muscle and organs would be than just his blood.

then his teeth lift, only just enough for his lips to close against skin.]

cw.... alla that

[tempurahair]

[Though Kyojuro may have no intention to cut through, it does not mean he shies away from using any force. He presses upward, widening that cut. The result is a thick stream of blood that splashes down onto his skin. He pretends that's the only reason he feels something hot curling within his torso as that mouth looms closer. Some part of him, though, can't help but recall the way that mouth felt against the palm of his hand. He revels in the memory of teeth nicking tender skin, rough tongue breaking open roughly only partially healed capillaries. His mind, for just a fraction of a second, delights at the idea of how all of that might feel against his neck.

And then reality hits.

Those fangs indent but do not press forward. Nevertheless, instinct takes over, and panic rushes blindly through Kyojuro. He presses up just the slightest bit harder, a fresh wash of blood splattering over him long enough to draw him back to reality.

Long enough for lips to close against his skin and - oh.

It's been a long war between Kyojuro and his mind. This isn't the first time he's entertained a thought like this. They've come more and more frequently in the two months they've spent with one another, but it's gotten exceedingly worse since they discovered that portrait of one another.

Despite his best attempts, Kyojuro had not not been able to deny that there was something inherently romantic about that rendition. They were together in some capacity in that life. There was no other way to explain Hakuji's rings, the intimate posing, and the fact that this very compound had belonged to Kyojuro, as well.

Usually he has something to busy himself with, a way to distract from thoughts and feelings that he was certain were not shared by Akaza. Pinned like this, awash with his blood and crippled by the feeling of that mouth against his own blazing skin — one that almost seems to reciprocate what Kyojuro himself has warred with — what else is he meant to do?

What else, that is, besides rising to the challenge.

His first attempt falters, given the positioning of the sword and just how slick he's become with the blood leaking from Akaza's throat. The second is far more successful as he discards the blade in favor of throwing his hands against Akaza's shoulders. He upends them both, flipping the other man onto his back and settling with his legs on either side of those hips.

This isn't the first time a spar has gone this way for Kyojuro. Maybe that's why he looks utterly in his element as he grins down at Akaza.]

I doubt you have earned that bite, you know! You have not satisfied the terms of our bet.

[And rather than leave it at that, Kyojuro does what he probably should not. He leans down to lock their lips together.]

[bluebasketballed]

[it doesn't bother akaza in the slightest that his own blood continues to spill. actually, it makes some part of him, long buried so deep in his chest it may as well have been a void, happy with himself. throughout this spar, even with the temptation of kyojuro's flesh within his reach, akaza is the one between the two of them who does not shed the other's blood.

the thought is chased away by reality when akaza finds the tables turned on him, looking up at kyojuro beaming, shining as bright as anything, even in the night. it's been so long since he's laid eyes upon the sun that he forgets what it looks and feels like; this is as close to remembering as he's ever been. he can't help but wonder if this is what it would be like to burn up in its rays.

what is this?]

Kyojuro --

[pale lashes flutter as the man leans down as he did moments ago. everything from akaza's chest up feels as if his skin and flesh are on fire, but the heat is somehow inviting. almost a welcome home, after so long.

he doesn't fight it. not that he knows how to respond, either. his lips tremble with inexperience, and when he tries to lift his hands to touch kyojuro, he remembers that they're still not healed. some part of his mind tells him he shouldn't enjoy this, that someone is still waiting for him -- another only recalls the details of the portrait, the thrice-shared rings and radiant smiles.

even if it's selfish, for now he focuses on the latter. this is a dance, the same as a battle is; in this particular dance, he'll follow kyojuro's lead and chase his lips wherever they move.]

[tempurahair]

[In those brief seconds before they collide, as Akaza lips part around his name, Kyojuro swears his heart leaps. It's a different sort of noise than that scandalous purr, but no less exhilarating. Taking this man, always one step ahead in a fight, by surprise, is nothing short of an unexpected delight.

To say nothing of everything that follows.

Admittedly Kyojuro can't figure out if the lack of apparent experience is to be expected or not. Charming, yes, but there was never any doubt in that. Regardless, it does not put the slayer off in any capacity — if anything it's a grounding reminder that this isn't a spar with a hashira, someone with whom flings could be meaningless. There was something here between them, and Kyojuro wanted to see that fleeting spark begin to bloom.

Though initially crushing and greedy, that kiss slows to something far more delicate. He keeps his motions slow, both to avoid overwhelming Akaza and to ensure that the other man could learn from the experience. One hand finds its way to that cut hand, fingers tightening in a way that simultaneously pulls the flesh back together and intertwines their finger. His palm slides from the residual blood but what about this isn't a disastrously messy affair?

The other hand shifts, first allowing his weight to be distributed along the span of Akaza's body (he can take it, they both know this), then shifting up to cradle the man's jaw. The tips of his fingers toy at tufts of pink hair, while his thumb follows the upward arc of the inner most tattoo.

Beyond that, though, it's kept chaste. He doesn't push despite a hunger that pools in his gut, demanding as much after weeks of confusion and denial. There are so many unknowns here between them, after all.]

[bluebasketballed]

[the weight of kyojuro's body over the length of his is satisfying in a way akaza has never felt before; he finds himself wishing that he could be absolutely crushed beneath him. the few inches kyojuro has on him feel more blatant, and that heat spreads itself to everywhere they connect.

it isn't that akaza is entirely ignorant. he knows what humans, and even some demons, get up to when they're alone. and yet, it still astounds him how desperate kyojuro's initial movements are. that hunger could easily be mistaken for demonic, but unlike most demons, he reins himself in.

why is it that after centuries of finding some sick sort of comfort in violence and pain and bloodshed, akaza discovers that this gentleness is like a balm on his wounded spirit?

the hand that kyojuro squeezes knits itself back together in his. akaza has to consciously regenerate the other hand. his throat still needs time to close up, but his arms are fully capable now. he leaves their fingers threaded, and the other hand snakes around kyojuro's back to pull him impossibly closer. his strength is carefully measured not to hurt the human, despite his own desire to be smothered.

once he finds himself needing breath, akaza tilts his head away and manages to look up at kyojuro as catlike as ever, even though his entire face is terribly flushed. his throat is horrifically exposed, something he knows should go against his every instinct, but the slightest chance of further combat only adds to the thrill.]

Alright, I'll admit you have me beaten. Go on, then. Take your bite.

[almost as an afterthought, his voice softens, more like his breathless utterance before than the usual smarm.]

Don't worry. You can't become a demon unless I will it. [and they both know he's long past that.]

[tempurahair]

[Up until this point, Kyojuro's heart had been moving at a frantic gallop. Now, as he straightens up to observe his handiwork, he feels it nearly stop. There is something so heartbreakingly beautiful about Akaza, faintly flushed and vulnerable. The effect is only strengthened by the cascade of Kyojuro's own fiery hair, casting a sort of sunny glow over the other man's skin.

His breath catches in his throat, lips parted around wind that doesn't come. And then just as quickly, it melts into a smile that's both tender and touched.

Granted, the edges do sharpen in the faintest at that surrender.]

That easily?

[Kyojuro accepts the invitation, nosing first down along Akaza's jaw, then tantalizingly down the span of his throat. He pauses at the spot where that pulse thrums the strongest, pressing his lips there once, twice, thrice -

before moving ever downward. He draws in the scent of the man below him, committing it to memory once more, then traces over to the span of his left pectoral. If the jostling from their brief grapple hasn't already done so, then Kyojuro carefully judges the fabric away. Only then does he lower his mouth once more, pressing an equally tender kiss just above Akaza's heart. He lingers here for a quiet moment, lips parting as he well and truly considers their bet.

Eventually, though, he lifts up with a teasing grin.]

And who said I have successfully held up my own end, Akaza? Our first fight lasted far longer than that, you this. Clearly I have much more work ahead of me!

[bluebasketballed]

[for some reason, this feels different. akaza can't place why, but it makes his skin crawl the more kyojuro showers him with affection. is it that he can't return it at the same time? that he hasn't earned it, or doesn't deserve it? or simply that he was expecting violence and received tenderness? whatever it is, he squirms when kyojuro's mouth lingers above his heart. he breathes a sigh of relief when the man sits up, as akaza was nearly ready to push him away, but worried about it offending kyojuro.

as his eyes dart away, some of the blood leaves his face, but a slight tinge remains. finally, the flesh of his neck begins to weave itself back together, and his blood on the both of them fades.]

You did put me on my back. Besides, physical strength is much quicker to build up.

[tempurahair]

[Is he imagining the growing tension between them? Kyojuro gets the feeling that he isn't, judging by the way he feels Akaza twitch beneath his mouth. Something sharp wedges in his chest, an acrid taste forming in his mouth. Nevertheless, he forces a smile through it, shoulder rolling in a shrug.]

I can do far better.

[He keeps it at that as he rises to his feet, then holds out his hand. Akaza can help himself up, sure, but it's only polite, right? And if he doesn't meet Akaza's eyes, that's fine.]

Would you like to try again?

[bluebasketballed]

[it won't hurt to accept the offered hand, surely. akaza wraps his hand around kyojuro's wrist and allows him to help him up, and yes, he finds that this is alright. alright enough that he feels comfortable slipping his fingers between kyojuro's, as they have come to do so often these days.

maybe his face does get warmer again. he still can't seem to look directly at kyojuro, either.]

You did just fine. [the meaning goes both ways. gods, akaza wishes he could make sense of these feelings, if only to assuage kyojuro's concerns.] It's... me. There's something wrong with me. I don't know.

[tempurahair]

[There's a level of relief that comes with that gesture. Kyojuro's fingers tighten around Akaza's, a brief squeeze that dispels at least a portion of the lingering regret. He scans Akaza's eyes, notes the faint color in those cheeks and decides... maybe there is still hope.

But first.]

There is nothing wrong with you, Akaza. Not when it comes to this. [His voice is gentle but firm, warm despite it all.] This may not be new to you, but it has been terribly long, I can imagine. And... regardless of what we might have been, we do not have to be that now.

[Even if it does sting to say.]

Truthfully, I should apologize. I do have something of a reputation when it comes to being too forward and open. Knowing all that I do... I should have asked.

So. My apologies.

[bluebasketballed]

There is. [his tone is forceful, though he can't put into words why he speaks with such conviction. not when he had only just thought that gentleness was nice, then repulsive immediately afterward.

his empty fist curls at kyojuro's apology, but he has the wherewithal to keep his voice from raising and the hand in kyojuro's from crushing it. he's growing. slowly. so goddamn slowly.]

Don't apologize. I started it. [why did he? saying it out loud makes it really dawn on him. why the hell did he do that?]

[tempurahair]

Fine. Perhaps there is. [There's no anger to these words, just warmth and reassurance.] But that does not mean that you are irredeemable. That you cannot surmount whatever eats at you.

[He can see it in the way that, while his muscles tighten and clench, Akaza does not lash out. Nor does he hurt Kyojuro, inadvertently or otherwise. He has changed so much, even in the scant time that they've known each other. And it makes him so painfully proud of the man in front of him.

Even if his heart does ache as he tries to distance them both from what just happened.]

Not that you must, for my sake. [His smile remains as sunny as ever, at least.] But we need not dwell on it. In fact, we can forget it happened at all.

[He squeezes Akaza's hand in reassurance, even if it almost burns to do so now. Gone is that previous electric current, and the comfort of those fingers between his. Now he almost feels foolish clinging to Akaza as he does.]

Whatever you wish, Akaza.

[bluebasketballed]

[even if, logically, he knows kyojuro probably doesn't mean it in a hurtful way, still, "forget it" feels as much like a slap in the face as anything. now, the heat in his face burns in an absolutely humiliating way, rather than any sort of pleasant feeling.

it figures. why the hell did akaza let himself think, even for a second, that he was allowed to be so selfish, after everything he's done and failed to do?

whatever he wishes?

what a joke.

his hand flexes and slips from kyojuro's as he turns, refusing to even look directly at him, meeting his gaze or otherwise. he echoes kyojuro hollowly.]

Forget it. Go rest, Kyojuro.

[tempurahair]

[Something in the air between them shifts. Even with Akaza's rejection, he had not turned away from Kyojuro. It's only once he's spoken that the other man pulls back. Something in his own words had garnered revulsion from his companion.

And that just won't do.

He has been so careful, not pushing unless Akaza made it clear he was willing to be pushed. Given his previous methods, Kyojuro should know not to surge forward here and now, he should respect the distance put up between them.

But some part of him wonders if that's the right idea. Perhaps it's his own selfishness speaking, the part of his mind that can't shake the image of two rings and the sort of smile that says he felt right at home with this man once. Or maybe it's just the fear of damaging their friendship by walking away. Either way, he has to do something.

Still, even if he decided to stay, he could do so carefully. Insist on taking Akaza's hand, perhaps, or call out to him in a gentle tone. But Kyojuro has never been one for half-measures, and that's exactly why he surges forward as quickly as he can. He knows he only has seconds before the man takes off at speeds he will never be able to match.

In seconds, he is at Akaza's back. His arms wrap around him, securing him from behind. It's not a tight grip by any means — easily stepped out of should one desire. But it's an embrace nonetheless, one that presses his chest to Akaza's back and keeps him close.]

I have a better idea. [His voice is low and gentle, coming in just above Akaza's ear.] Why don't you tell me what you want?

[bluebasketballed]

[he knows it's fucked up that his first instinct is to get kyojuro off of him as violently as possible. it would be absolutely effortless to shatter ribs with an elbow, smash in his nose with a backhand. at kyojuro's tender voice and words, he nearly loses control over the muscles begging to break something. he feels the back of his neck hackle as if in the freezing cold he hasn't felt since he was human; the same as the sun, it's been so long he can't recall exactly what it was like.

is this a test? from kyojuro, or some higher power? it's everything he can do to keep his voice level, though it quakes from the effort.]

Stop. I want you to stop. Stop treating me like -- like I'll break. [akaza doesn't truly believe what he did during their battle, that the slightest weakness means someone should be culled. even so -- being treated as anything less than immovable, unstoppable, makes his skin crawl.

that's got to be it. showing his belly to a hashira goes against everything he is.]

[tempurahair]

[There is a contradiction in those words, at least as far as Kyojuro's mind sees it. Stop, Akaza says, and at once those arms start to loosen. But when he follows it up with merely balking at the gentleness, those arms squeeze around him once more. To any one else, this grip would be crushing. He knows it means little to Akaza. If he wanted it, the man would already be free.]

Is that what you think? That I am being gentle because I feel you cannot handle it? [One hand finds its way to Akaza's hand again, squeezing around it just hard enough for those bones to creak.] I assure you, it is not for your well-being, Akaza.

[And though Kyojuro has really tried to put his most aggressive foot forward, some things are more difficult than others. That's precisely why he hooks his chin over Akaza's shoulder, tender as can be. His head cants, so that his hair brushes against his companion's own.]

I have told you of my promise. I have vowed to always be gentle toward that - [There is a brief moment of hesitation here. Considering the way Akaza has balked at him so far, this very well could be a death sentence, at least in a matter of speaking. What else can you call it, when you offer your heart on a platter.] - that which I care for.

Why would I ever treat you any different?

[bluebasketballed]

[is this a joke? the way kyojuro attempts to crush his ribcage, his fingers, it... does align with what akaza has just said. but it feels almost comical, for the man to respond with more forceful affection than to just release him entirely. that alone eases some of akaza's tension, yet he finds that some part of him still reels from it all the same.

his head, the wretched, traitorous thing, tilts into kyojuro's without his permission. the rest of his body follows suit, a hand grasping at kyojuro's arm, and his eyes fluttering shut.

akaza remembers. one of the first evenings they spent together, here. kyojuro promised his ailing mother to always protect others. but why him? why protect someone so much stronger?]

I still think you're a fool for that.

[tempurahair]

[It's a start. All of it feels like one carefully placed foot in front of another. With Akaza responding well to it, Kyojuro sees no fault in maintaining it. It's earned even just an ounce of affection back, which is a hell of a step forward compared to where they just were.]

Perhaps I am. [Kyojuro's laugh is low in his throat, undercut with something soft. Maybe it's the exact opposite of what Akaza wanted, but hadn't he only just explained his own logic.] But would you have me any other way?

[This, in and of itself, is a loaded question. Have me. Take me. He is offering himself in many ways, extending a hand and hoping desperately that Akaza might take it. Even if a third of them is gone, even if some part of him mourns a woman he never knew, he cannot hope but try to cobble together even a modicum of what they apparently once had.]

[bluebasketballed]

[once, not so long ago, their roles were switched. akaza was all but begging kyojuro to become a demon, to stay with him, to be his partner in growing ever stronger... but akaza feels no vindication in kyojuro being the one now on his knees.

there's a part of him, a part so large that he can't fully ignore it, only try to work around it, that wants to lean into it, to accept whatever kyojuro offers with no strings attached. but the part that will always consume everything else, like a black hole in his chest, his very soul...]

I -- shouldn't get to have you any way. [so why do his fingers tighten on the man's arm?] You're... good, Kyojuro. Even as a human, I committed evil acts. [he can't stop thinking about the portrait, either, about how happy they all looked. how happy she looked.

before he knows it, his cheeks are wet. yet again betrayed by his own body.]

We're not those people anymore. Koyuki isn't here. She -- she was waiting for me. She was willing to go into hell with me. But I'm... here. Not with her.

[finally, finally, he lets go of kyojuro in favor of pulling away, of wiping at his own face. even now, after hundreds of years, her absence is a raw, open wound that will never heal, the pain all-consuming.

is this the real reason he can't bring himself to allow it? maybe. everything else feels like a cheap excuse in comparison.]

I can't. Not without her. I can't.

[tempurahair]

[Had Akaza left it at that first statement, Kyojuro would have fought back as hard as he could. He would have said, with every ounce of flame in his heart, that he was perfectly capable of deciding just what his goodness could and could not allow. He would point out that for every protest Akaza offered, his own body seemed to indicate what it truly wanted.

All of this, he could have said.

But to the second protest, he has nothing. Those words feel like water being thrown upon his flame, any sort of arguments fizzling out violently and shrinking into hot coals. How could he ever argue against that

His palms itch to reach out, to wipe at those tears for himself, but he simply can't. That isn't his right. Whatever had happened to separate those people from the past from the men they've become now, it had done so cleanly and thoroughly. There is a line in the sand, one that separates Kyojuro from both Koyuki and Akaza. And that is simply the way of it.

The pain shows in his eyes for one second.

It hurts to admit, more than it should be when it comes to such a fleeting crush. Perhaps the man he was in the past cries out just as vehemently. Maybe some part of him believes that Koyuki would not want them to suffer alone. But Kyojuro, as he is now, has never had the pleasure of knowing the girl. He cannot speak for her. And so he ignores any internal protests that might crop up.

Two seconds.

On three, he crushes it within the palm of his hand, smiling hard. The warmth shines through, ever the stalwart flame pillar. He has given so much in his life. What is one more thing.]

I understand, Akaza. You are a good man. And I apologize for ever tempting you so. [He takes a step back, then two, before clearing his throat.]

The night is still young, you know. Perhaps you could show me a few moves from Soryu before it is terribly late?

[bluebasketballed]

[it isn't that akaza has run out of patience. he thinks it's growing little by little every day, even, especially under kyojuro's tutelage. no, it's more likely that he feels every bit like a wounded, cornered animal, and lashing out is only natural. he whips around, snarling even with the tears still streaming down his face.]

Stop lying to me, and to yourself! I already said I started it! And if I was ever good, none of us would be where we are! [clearly, if they're living these lives, hakuji failed to protect koyuki in both, and kyojuro in one. and in the other... they've already been over that countless times.]

Don't act like you're fine, either. I'm not blind, Kyojuro. I know I hurt you, so stop lying.

[kyojuro's attempt at redirecting things goes unacknowledged. even if akaza wasn't currently acting an ass, how could he ever focus on that right now?]