[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

[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.]