thehometree | [Amber: 001]

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[Amber: 001]

[Today Yoshitsugu is regarding the amber with an air of intent, tapping one hand against his facecloth as he speaks (despite the clawed gauntlets he is wearing making this a somewhat hazardous thing to do). What serious matter does he want to address? All will shortly become clear!]

The flow has washed in new souls, the mirror shard is providing new mysteries that may or may not be wise to solve, new beauty blooms beyond the tree and more questions are on everybody's lips. But there is one question I have yet to hear, which is disappointing, so it is now up to me to ask it.

[His tone is even and calm, but the lack of seriousness in the question he is about to ask is betrayed if one really examines the part of Yoshitsugu's face that is visible; there is a certain amused sparkle in his eyes.]

Do you carry a handtowel with you at all times?

[Yoshitsugu is a bit of a mystery all on his own...]

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['Yoshitsugu, what are you doing?' Is what Takatora's eyes are saying, though his expression is both exasperated and fond. His love of hand towels is one thing he's not embarrassed about, for better or for worse.]

Hey! I know that you're mocking me, but every warrior should carry a hand towel.

[Don't tell him that he's the only one, or he'll have to take action.]

[Yoshitsugu knows all that. He knows it all too well, which is part of what makes this familiar and old game so fun. Isn't it odd that it can be played so freely between them again?]

I fear you may find that most warriors here will wonder why that is, Takatora.

[At this point Yoshitsugu's amusement switches from 'subtle' to 'obvious if you happen to be Takatora or Mitsunari.' Rather than tapping his handtowel-facecloth he stops, and presses his whole hand against it in mock astonishment.]

How will you relax knowing you live amongst such strange people?

I won't.

[He says dryly.]

This many people, and not a hand towel between them? I don't want to believe it.

Should I remind you that the only reason I have always had one is because of the constant supply you sent me over the years?

[Each and every handtowel gift had been folded and kept safely in a chest dedicated to the purpose, in the end; they had been things to treasure despite the somewhat ridiculous amount Takatora had provided.]

[That poor chest would probably meet a terrible fate now...]

That, in a way, makes me one of those warriors you shake your head in disbelief at.

I shake my head in disbelief at you every day; I don't need additional reasons to do it.

[Think of his poor, strained neck muscles, Yoshitsugu.]

But since you feel your current lack of hand towels so deeply, I have an easy solution.

I'd say you turn a delightful shade of pink more than you shake your head.

[Do you deny this truth, Takatora?]

Does that mean you are going to somehow weave me a pink handtowel?

[How can he protest when that comment ensures that his face belies any denials he makes?]

Seriously?

[He scoffs, as he habitually presses his knuckles to his lips, his normal unconscious gesture of embarrassment.]

Maybe I will, just to spite you.

[Well, all right, it won't really be out of spite -- but now that he's said it, he's committed himself to doing it.]

Yes, Takatora, I can see how that would spite me.

[As always, Yoshitsugu's tone of voice doesn't change one bit with his sarcasm.]

You will surely show me the error of my ways.

[The corners of his mouth curl upwards in amusement as he drops his hand back down to his side.]

A man can dream, Yoshitsugu.

Can he?

[Yoshitsugu's eyes widen dramatically.]

How often does this man dream of me, exactly?

[Oh Takatora. You always have made teasing you so incredibly easy.]

W-What?

[Takatora splutters; he's still not fully reaccustomed to Yoshitsugu's relentless teasing. His reply consequently comes a beat later.]

All of the time. [He exaggerates.] It's a veritable haunting.

[Takatora must enjoy being teased, to set himself up so much. That spluttered response is quite the prize, however, and thus Yoshitsugu smiles somewhat widely; a shame it's hidden beneath his facecloth.]

You must be especially hopeless to dream of someone like me so much.

[A shake of the head.]

But I suppose I must haunt you all night when you haunt me all day, taking over the work of my shadow.

[That's an assessment he doesn't disagree with: he really is hopeless. And as if to prove it, he honestly says:]

I'm substantial, while your shadow is not. That's the whole point.

So this Takatora sees me as a castle without walls? And is using his body in their place?

[...and Yoshitsugu understands why, of course. Not for the first time he considers the fact that Takatora would sooner survive dying for Yoshitsugu than losing him again, which is unfortunate, considering the nature of this place and the high chances of it happening.]

[The first time he'd been comfortable in knowing that Takatora would survive, and handle it. But now?]

You look far too covered up for a castle wall. If you truly wish to commit to your new career you had best surrender all of your clothing.

[For now, terrible humour, apparently. Some conversations just aren't appropriate for the moment.]

That includes the handtowels.

[Takatora's face turns a vivid shade of red.]

W-what?! That's way too revealing!

[He's at his limit of teasing, and honestly, he's not sure that he wants to hear worse than jokes about his nudity -- so he decides to go and hunt for handtowel materials instead.]

[And Yoshitsugu laughs, leaving Takatora to it. That 'way too revealing' was the only comment given is endearing and amusing both.]

[Later, after Takatora has completed his handtowel mission, he might find Yoshitsugu (after some searching) in a nice warm spot at the base of the tree.]

[Napping, of course. Why waste a fine day such as this?]

[Eventually Takatora does find Yoshitsugu, and he does not come empty-handed.

He has two freshly made hand towels on his person, both petal pink and fragrant. Feeling strangely, potently elated, he grins to see his friend napping in the sunlight as he sneaks over, aiming not to wake Yoshitsugu with his approach. He unwinds one the pink hand towels slung around his neck and drops it over his friend; laughing to himself in anticipation, Takatora curls up beside Yoshitsugu, tasting the cat-like lifestyle for himself.]

[Unfortunately for Takatora, his frame is not best suited to curling up like a cat; it's an elbow in his side that initially wakes Yoshitsugu up. He blinks, seeing pink.]

[Fragrance fills his senses, overwhelming him until he pulls the petal handtowel away from his face and stares at it curiously. That's... interesting.]

Where, exactly, did you find this? [Yoshitsugu says, poking his friend roughly in the ribs as he speaks.] I shall be smelling nothing else for days.

[Takatora grunts at being poked, but stays right where he is -- enduring is a well-honed skill of his, after all. Yoshitsugu is stuck sharing the spot.]

At the base of the tree.

[Helpful.]

This is a good spot.

Of course.

[Yoshitsugu is nothing less than an expert when it comes to choosing a good napping spot, after all, and he knows it. More important to consider right now, however, is the source of these petal handtowels. Something about that scent... Yoshitsugu is starting to feel a sense of elation rise in his chest, and it definitely should not be washing over him as quickly as it is.]

I thank you for the kind gift, and am certain that its strange effects shall be washed away by the flow in time.

[The sense of elation bids him to poke Takatora again, and so he does, followed quickly by an outright tickle.]

[He doesn't grunt at the poke this time, expecting it -- but being tickled is unexpected, and Takatora laughs and squirms helplessly. It's Yoshitsugu's own fault if he gets elbows or kneed: any jerk of his large limbs is completely out of his control. Eventually he manages to pin Yoshitsugu's hand in the grass beneath them, and he gulps in air as his uncontrolled laughter fades. A rare smile shapes his mouth in its wake.]

It wasn't the lesson I meant to teach you, but... This almost takes me back.

[It's been an age since he felt this light-hearted, even if it's nothing more than accidental exposure. Still, it wouldn't have felt right without Yoshitsugu's company -- feeling no side-effects himself, he saw no reason not to share.

They were young once, and even if they can never be again, it's nice to remember.]

[If Yoshitsugu does get elbowed in the sides at it, he doesn't react; his face (well, what shows of it) is filled with amusement and fondness, nothing more. By his standards it's an incredibly emotional expression.]

[He snorts lightly at Takatora's comment, however, glancing down at his trapped hand as if pondering a way to get it free without much effort.]

Our current living situation certainly echoes the one we knew in our earliest days as warriors.

[Not completely, of course. At least they have some measure of privacy behind their screens; back when they had first joined the Azai they had shared one very large room with many other rather awkward young men. Rank and file soldiers with no real experience but plenty of dreams, not knowing for sure what might lay ahead... apparently even he can have moments of nostalgia, Yoshitsugu thinks. Maybe it was the dying that brought it out in him.]

[(It's not a negative thought at all).]

Though you thankfully snore much less now.

[One thing that Yoshitsugu will never stop being, however, is a tease. Somewhere beneath his facecloth he is grinning in a somewhat wicked manner.]

The tree is surely grateful for that fact.

[How cruel -- which is just like Yoshitsugu, where teasing is concerned.]

No one snores that loudly!

[Takatora protests, though his smile remains. He releases Yoshitsugu's hand.]

Never mind that you shouldn't be criticising anyone's sleeping habits.

[Yoshitsugu flexes his freed hand, side-eyeing Takatora as he does so.]

I know how to make myself comfortable.

[Though it's true that this means Yoshitsugu must need a different kind of comfort every half hour or so, judging by how often he moves around.]

But what of you?

[It's almost certainly the influence of that strange fragrance which inspires the next comment?]

Shall I teach you my secret napping techniques? I warn you, acquiring such forbidden knowledge may be perilous indeed...

[Usually such lines would be delivered in an ominous manner, but right now it's strangely impossible for Yoshitsugu to do anything but 'relaxed and content.']

[Takatora rolls onto his side, properly facing Yoshitsugu.]

Teach me.

[Perilous or not, he's curious.]

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