[001] - [Text]

[wavesoakedlegs]

[It's been a long, long time since this particular samurai has written poetry. Lost in his depression and the weight of his duty, there's been no time or inspiration to draw from. Now? A man of emotion surrounded by little joy-bringing creatures? Even with underlying knowledge that there can't be much good at the root of this he can't help but drift in the incredible feelings they bring, and so, haiku time it is.]

Path through dancing stars
Unseen touches on the heart
It dreams in the light

[And sometime after, he adds:]

This feels more like a dream than ever.

Comments

[behisstrength]

[Motochika huffs a laugh.]

Let me hear you play, my friend. Then I shall teach you.

[For now, however, Motochika is content to start combing his fingers though Mitsuhide's luxuriant hair.]

[wavesoakedlegs]

Very well...

[Mitsuhide knows this isn't going to be a nice thing to listen to, but if Motochika really wants it? He'll try. At least he can hold it correctly. The sight of his friend playing is too familiar a sight to get that wrong.]

[Adjusting his position, Mitsuhide hesitantly places the bachi against the strings and tries to strum. To play. It doesn't go very well, as you would expect from someone playing for the first times.]

[behisstrength]

[Motochika delights in it for the act rather than the sound produced, leaving Mitsuhide to flounder for a few long moments as he continues to slip his fingers through Mitsuhide's hair. Eventually, however, he frees his hand and pushes himself back up into a proper sitting position. Placing his hands over Mitsuhide's, he repositions Mitsuhide's fingers on his shamisen's neck.]

Hold your string with your nails, not your fingertips.

[He then guides Mitsuhide's hand with the bachi in, demonstrating the motion of strumming and the correct angle.]

Strike from your wrist, but do not tense. Use the top corner of the bachi. The correct motion presses the string down to the skin. Don't pull it.

[Motochika then breaks their contact to allow Mitsuhide to try unaided.]

[wavesoakedlegs]

[Mitsuhide does blush a little this time, very aware of his lack of musical skill. He takes a moment to memorise the position of his hands and what he's been told before trying again.]

This will be a very long journey, Lord Motochika.

[Slightly better... but still terrible. Well, that's what practice is for, right? It's hard not to laugh when he feels like this, in the euphoria brought on by the fireflies and the close company of his friend, and that's exactly what Mitsuhide does as he continues to try and play.]

[behisstrength]

Anyone may master technique in time. What cannot be taught is how to let your soul pour forth.

[Motochika drawls, leaning back just enough to return to running his fingers through Mitsuhide's hair.]

The purity of yours shall ring clearly in your songs, my resplendent friend.

[wavesoakedlegs]

Shaking his head fondly, Mitsuhide looks down at his own fingers as he tries to play. They seem obviously uncertain as they grip the bachi, the signs not only of a novice but of someone without any natural musical talent. There's a reason he is a poet rather than a musician.]

I think you might be the only person who believes that, my friend.

[Motochika is always rather physical with anyone, but today he is being generous with his contact. Probably why Mitsuhide still looks flushed.]

A perspective unique to you.

[behisstrength]

[Motochika laughs.]

Do not falter, Mitsuhide.

[He frees one hand to cradle the back of Mitsuhide's bachi-holding hand, so that he can physically lead Mitsuhide to strike more powerfully with the next strum. His touch then recedes.]

I will buoy your resolve until you float on your own belief. You shall hear it too!

[wavesoakedlegs]

[And Mitsuhide laughs himself, glancing to the side with a fond smile as he tries that harder strum.]

Why are you speaking like I can play well already?

[Because obviously he can't. This is lesson one. Lesson one. For a person with minimal natural musical talent.]

[behisstrength]

It will come. Have confidence!

[Motochika counters, smiling warmly. He starts to loosely plait a lock of Mitsuhide's hair.]

[wavesoakedlegs]

I was asking about my present skill, not what might come, my Lord.

[Mitsuhide stops playing for a moment, dropping the bachi-holding hand to his side, and glances down at Motochika, gaze eventually fixing on the growing plait.]

Nonetheless, I am sure you have enough confidence for the both of us.

[behisstrength]

[Motochika laughs, and winds the plait around the mass of Mitsuhide's loose hair, intoxicated by the light.]

You have just begun, my friend.

[He smirks a moment later, however, capturing the back of both of Mitsuhide's hands. This time he guides Mitsuhide's hands not to teach, but to play a warm, lazy melody.]

Heh. Even so, play boldly!

[wavesoakedlegs]

[It's impossible to avoid flushing in full now; Mitsuhide bites his lip for a moment before shaking his head, smiling and relaxing enough to let Motochika do what he wants. The song is intoxicating, almost as much as the fireflies.]

I can't.

[He points out with an amused hum.]

You're playing instead.

[behisstrength]

We are playing, Mitsuhide.

[Motochika insists, playfully stubborn, as he continues to use his friend's hands to play his shamisen.]

[wavesoakedlegs]

That's ridiculous.

[And Motochika does so like to be that way, doesn't he? Not that he'd consider those ridiculos moments as such; they are always described very differently by Mitsuhide's stubborn friend.]

I am doing nothing. You are merely using my hands as a tool of your own.

[behisstrength]

Yet it remains a collaboration.

[He retorts, though once the song ends he releases Mitsuhide's hands and falls backwards onto the ground, lying on his back to watch the fireflies drift through the air.]