Chapter Text
He finds the eccentric in the night with the moon shining on the sands of Nazuchi Beach. In the gleam of the starlight, the humming of the eccentric seemed to cause everything to fall to a standstill. They moved fluidly, movements measured and perfect, complimented with the glint of the blade they held. Katsuragi could only stare in awe at the beauty in front of him, watching as the blade flashes as it slices through the air.
His footsteps sound loud in the night as he crossed through the field of dendrobiums, but it did little to stop the sword dancer’s movements. Their hair flowed with their movement, floating as if it were in water. He steps closer, mind focused only on the dancer as he approached all to suddenly feel the press of a blade to his throat. He stops, staring into eyes that shone in the moonlight. He felt breathless, something that had little to do with the blade pressed to his throat.
“What are you doing here?” Their voice was smooth, almost hypnotic, and betrayed no emotion. Katsuragi swallowed against the blade, not being able to look away at the fair face in front of him. Up close, they looked even more beautiful. And he tells them such, delighted at the blush that stains fair cheeks.
Their name was Jun. They spoke of evil creatures in Tsurumi, the corals and pearls of Watatsumi, and the festivals and fireworks of Narukami. All the things Katsuragi had experienced, yet it sounded even better when said by Jun’s wistful tone and bright eyes. To hear of the most common sights of Inazuma with such delight and veneration was breath taking. Katsuragi couldn’t help but add his own experiences, and to his delight and surprise, the performer would hang on his words, always engaged.
“Where do you go when I do not see you?” questioned the eccentric one night as they walked the shoreline of the beach. The brine in the breeze was soothing, and the steady breaths of the one next to him kept him relaxed, almost as if he were at home.
“I act as a yoriki to a great inspector. He has endeavored to create an odachi, the Daitatara Nagamasa. I was speaking with Miyazaki-san about the smithing of that great sword, and to be quite honest, I am excited about it,” Katsuragi admitted. Jun hummed, head tilted, and it is there Katsuragi sees the familiar curiosity he has grown to love.
“Daitatara Nagamasa…” hummed Jun, hand patting the sheath of their own sword. “Is it possible to dance with it?”
Katsuragi let out a laugh, “My dear Jun, I believe you are capable of the most extraordinary of feats. Despite the size and heft of that sword, I believe if anyone could find a way to do so, it would be you,” Jun rolled their eyes, lips curving into a gentle smile. Katsuragi recognized the fondness in the others gaze and his grin grew.
“Well, I for one very well believe you should try your own hand at it, Katsuragi,” Jun said, dragging out the last syllable of his name as they stopped next to him. Katsuragi gave a chuckle, shaking his head.
“I do believe you overestimate my abilities, my dear eccentric,” Katsuragi replied.
“I do believe I do not, my dear samurai,” countered Jun. Slim hands grasped his own and Katsuragi almost holds his breath. Jun stared up at him with determination, a fire in their eyes that breathed of life and in that moment, it felt as if electricity had replaced all the blood in his veins. He could almost smell the ozone in the air. He couldn’t get enough.
“Dance with me, please?”
Katsuragi was a weak man when it came to the person he loved.
He took Jun with him the next time he met with his lord. Nagamasa was a relatively imposing man, borderline obsessed with his goal of restoring the Mikoshi name to its former prestige. It was commendable, to care so much for the name of the individual who had raised him despite having no blood relation. It was something Katsuragi found commendable and convinced him to follow this man as his yoriki. He watched the two interact, the eccentric firing off a deluge of questions about every little thing, trying to absorb all the information. Nagamasa took it in stride, enamored with his vision of the blade. Normally Katsuragi would jump in and participate in such a discussion, but he was content to watch Jun’s wide-eyed curiosity as Nagamasa and Miyazaki walked them through the process.
“I am afraid it may be too large for someone as lithe as you, Jun-kun,” said Nagamasa with an apologetic look. Jun waved it off.
“Think nothing of it, Nagamasa-san. While I am most interested in your blade, it is not I who I wish would wield it.” Jun replied, sending a look Katsuragi’s way. He sighed, shaking his head. Nagamasa looked between the two, confusion displayed on his face.
“Jun is a sword dancer—well, a performer of the arts in general. They also excel at kabuki—and has got it in their head that they would like me to sword dance with them,” explained Katsuragi, not being able to hide the fondness in his exasperated voice.
“Well, I could see no other way to inaugurate a sword,” replied Miyazaki, giving Katsuragi a pat on the back. “Better start practicing, boy,”
The sword took two months to finish, the detailing and craft dedicated to the sword leaving them all exhausted. Katsuragi felt as if his only respite was Jun’s cool hands caressing his cheek and pressing kisses to his cheek when they were alone. The other only comes occasionally, other duties such as performances and “family matters,” as the other had dubbed them, taking up his time.
He watched as Nagamasa held the sword reverently, and watched as Nozomu painted the sword, so in awe at the mastery of the blade. It was strange to see the odachi finished, something that he had spent so long making and planning. To see the beauty, something he helped create with his hands made him pause. Nagamasa offered him the blade. As he grasped the hilt, all he could think about was Jun bathed in light, dancing barefoot under the pale moonlight all those months ago.
The dance was simple, something that was for them. Miyazaki had given him a knowing look, and Nagamasa had given him his blessing. Jun had been sitting outside on a hill, near the edges of the small clearing that held the small fire they had created for the food they had made. He approached them, sword in hand.
They turned to him; eyes thoughtful with an emotion that was incomprehensible before they recognized him. Watching as those beautiful eyes grew soft made him feel as if he were the luckiest man alive.
“May I have this dance?” asked Katsuragi. A smile split Jun’s face in half, moonlight shining down on them. For the first time, Katsuragi notices an electro mark gracing the gentle line of their throat. They rise, billowing fabric moving with each movement.
“I thought you would never ask, my love,” they replied, stepping forward, hand slipping into his. It fit so right, and not for the first time he imagined holding his beloved’s hand at an alter in ceremony.
Dancing with Jun felt natural, despite the stumbles he committed as he and his eccentric danced around the flame. The sword felt like an extension of his arm, and he was able to slot in perfectly with Jun. It was as if he had found a space for himself in the openings of Jun’s movements. Or perhaps, they had made a space for each other in their movements.
He could hear the cheering from his comrades as he danced, but nothing could beat the sight that was the beauty in front of him.
How unfortunate…
“I love you,” whispered Jun once they stopped, bodies close as they breathed as one.
“Prove it,” Katsuragi replied, mind made up for him as he grasped those familiar hands. “Marry me, my love,”
That this was the last time he would ever see his eccentric.