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“Kuwana-kun!”
3-A couldn’t help but gasp as the calm Gou grunted at a surprise strike, covering Matsui’s blind spot. His sword clanged loudly against the training bot’s own sword, but it wasn’t enough to stop the blade from hitting himself.
“Kuwana!”
“Kuwa!”
Two loud voices yelled out as Buzen rushed over to parry the training bot’s next strike, covering Matsui as the other Gou kept Kuwana from hitting the floor too harshly, checking over the latter to make sure the wound wasn’t too deep.
“I’m alright, just a graze.” Kuwana laughed off, wincing a bit when Matsui deadpanned at his answer. “Okay… more than just a graze…”
The wound wasn’t exactly deep, to a danshi’s perspective, at least, for humans, though, that might send them to a hospital. The blade had ripped through the fabric of his uniform, allowing the slash to cut clean against his chest and a bit of his upper arm. If they bled, the wound would have looked so much worse than it was. It should be an easy fix-
Damn it.
After a quick pat down, Matsui came to the realization that he didn’t have any repair spells on him, nor did any of them actually, because none of them were used to carrying repair spells. None of them was one to get themselves hurt on a mission; they were all too careful. Unless we consider each other, all caution seems to disappear, thoughtlessly thrown to the wind.
“Kuwa- OH MY GOD! Kuwana-kun!” their annoyingly loud classmates shouted into the danshi’s ears. Seemingly just reacting to Kuwana’s wound rather than doing to the sensi-
Ah, never mind, one of them patted Matsui’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get him over to the medic tent.” Well, guess there was a reason why that tent was constructed. Humans and their need for constant medical assistance was something that he found odd; truly, humans were so weak, but without the presence of Yagen or their Saniwa, Matsui was finding that particular habit to be increasingly useful.
The uchigatana nodded numbly, easily carrying a protesting Kuwana to the medic tent. Well… the smaller tan tent next to the medical tent, constructed just for the touken danshi if they ever got hurt. Their classmates had originally questioned about the extra tent, only for Kuwana to shrug their questions off and explain that the Citadel had different medical processes and warranted a separate medical area.
“Call Suishinshi!” Matsui commanded his somewhat shell-shocked classmates; he didn’t blame them. This was the first time any of them got a wound this severe while they attended UA, so he was right along with them in the extremely worried boat. Without any magical means of healing, they would have to go with more…traditional techniques for repairs. He really should start making a habit of carrying repair spells; it doesn't hurt to have them.
His classmates seem to understand that questions should be saved for later, as one of them ran off to call the 2nd year swordsmith. That was another thing the touken danshi had to explain to their classmates when Buzen managed to sprain his ankle while sparring with one of their classmates. They had their own medical processes, so naturally, they only trusted someone from the Citadel to treat their wounds and would refuse to see Recovery Girl because of that reasoning. So when they got hurt, they would much rather call one of their own. Simple as that. Totally not because they weren’t actually humans, and were actually just sword spirits given physical bodies. Recovery Girl wouldn’t be able to help them either way, plus even if she could do something, none of them were willing to mess with the bodies that their Saniwa has bestowed onto them.
Matsui entered the tent, gently dropping Kuwana onto the cot that was provided. Grabbing his sword from its place on Kuwana’s hip and laying it next to his brother’s cot, close enough to its wielder but far away enough that Suishinshi can examine the blade in good lighting.
“Matsui Gou,” A voice stated his name from behind. He quickly turned around to see Suishinshi. The swordsmith, still in the UA school uniform, ah, Matsui would have felt bad for pulling him out of class if the situation wasn’t so dire.
“Suishinshi,” he replied, watching as the smith’s gaze landed on Kuwana’s obvious wounds. The other Gou sword was casually sitting on the cot, drumming his fingers against his legs. A smile never left his lips as he shrugged when Suishinshi made a vague noise of bewilderment. The Gous weren’t frequent visitors to the repair room, or tent in this case, so seeing them in there was already jarring enough.
“Ah, Kuwana Gou, I see…” Suishinshi mumbled to himself, quickly walking over to examine Kuwana’s blade. “Just a scratch… It’s shallow, so it’s not terribly bad…”
Kuwana gave a light-hearted hum, “Sorry for pulling you out of class, Suishinshi.” He said in place of a greeting to the other.
“...Is Kuwana-kun going to be alright?” one of the third years asked, fiddling with their hero uniform as they bit their lip from anxiety. Clearly, the group of human classmates silently disagreed with Suishinshi’s comment, pointedly staring at Kuwana’s gapingly large wound through the ripped, hanging pieces of the Gou’s outfit.
“Kuwana Gou will be fine,” Suishinshi said, before turning to Matsui, “Repairs would probably take around 20-ish minutes; the damage isn’t bad enough to seek an actual forge.”
Matsui nodded his head. He turned around to leave, never really one to enjoy watching another danshi, much less his own brothers, be repaired right in front of his very eyes.
Only for two things to happen.
One, Buzen came running into the tent at full speed. Effectively using Matsui as a brake and crash pad, and the two Gous went tumbling onto the floor. Trapping Matsui underneath the heavy body of the Gou leader.
Two, one of his classmates just had to awkwardly point at the tent flaps and ask, “So… should we leave?”
He was going to punch that classmate’s nose so hard they would get a permanent nosebleed for the rest of their life if they didn’t shut up right that second. Ahhh, they’ll be permanently painted in that beautiful red-
Suishinshi paused his prep work, looking up to the small group of third years who were awkwardly standing at the tent’s doorway, some of whom were already inching their way to exit the tent.
“You guys can stay if you want to.” A calm, yet strained voice sounded around the room. All eyes fell onto Kuwana, who shrugged, winced at the action, but proceeded to shrug again with only his uninjured shoulder.
“...You sure?” Suishinshi asked at the same time as Buzen, who used Matsui as a step stool, pushing himself off of the other to look Kuwana in the eyes. Ignoring how Matsui wheezed a gasp of air into his lungs from underneath him.
Kuwana nodded his head, “I mean… It's only a matter of time until they’ll ask to see the procedure… Plus, why not?”
“I feel like you’re only saying this because you’re going to be knocked out for the entire thing and thus don't have to answer any questions while you’re unconscious.”
“And what if I am?”
Matsui groaned at the answer, as Buzen shrugged at the words. Finally getting himself off of Matsui, and sat next to the other Gou properly. “Well, it’s your choice, Kuwa.”
Kuwana hummed, “I’m fine with them watching, it’s not like we’re trying to keep the process a secret either way.” He turned towards Suishinshi, who had already gone back to finishing his prep work, gray blazer and red tie pulled off and set aside, and the white sleeves of his shirt rolled up and out of the way. “If that’s alright with you, Suishinshi.”
“Ah- Yes, that’s fine with me.” Suishinshi jumped at the sudden question, pulling his collar up as high as it could go, not like the shirt collar could go very high, but the habit remained. “As long as they stay out of the way.”
“Alright then,” Kuwana repositioned himself so his feet were off the ground and resting on the cot. “Hit me.”
With a swift hand chop to his neck from Buzen, the gardening sword fell into the waiting arms of Matsui, who lowered him gently on the cot, unconscious. The small group of human 3rd year students all let out a noise of shock, only to be blocked by Buzen, who pinned them with an uncharacteristically stern glare as a warning to the students. The 3A members eyed him warily before quietening, settling themselves down against the pinned tent walls. Buzen and Matsui followed suit after pulling off the gear, parting the green blazer, unzipping the white hoodie, and wrestling Kuwana’s limp arm out of its sleeve to reveal the entire wound, and oh god, he had a six pack, did a final check over Kuwana’s form. They then kneeled close to the cot, pulling their respective swords from the holsters to place them in front of them on the ground in a practiced motion.
The 2nd year Citadel student ignored all of their fuss, instead busying himself with setting up his station with the required materials, dragging a tray and an angled stone setup until he was satisfied with its position. He carefully picked up Kuwana’s sword, holding it at eye-level to re-assess the damage, a scratch spanning a fourth of the blade length. Suishinshi silently nodded in affirmation and set down the sword on a spread-out mat along the floor. Gripping a small hammer, a Mekuginuki, and tapping the peg, Mekugi, out from its spot hidden underneath the cloth wrapping on the handle.
He caught the wooden peg as it fell out, putting it in a tray off to the side for safekeeping, then gracefully held up the uchigatana upright in one hand, its blade tip pointing to the ceiling, and used his other hand to hit his own wrist, the motion encouraging and dislodging the bottom part of the blade, the Tang, from the decorated hilt, Tsuka.
The group watched with rapt interest, gazes locked on the movements the 2nd year made as he removed the tsuka and placed it in the tray, then tenderly slid off the washer-like bearings, the Seppa, that sandwiched the hand guard, Tsuba, which was deposited into the tray as well. It felt like the room held a collective breath as Suishinshi held up the blade in its undressed state, the light caressing the shine of the metal, softly enveloping the slightly covered engravings due to the Edo swordsmith holding onto the tang. Still, one could barely make out the jagged lines of Kuwana’s name on one side, and another, Honda- something, on the other.
Suishinshi reached for a cloth that was neatly folded among the set up, gently wiping the length of the blade before he started his work, pulling a shallow bucket of water closer to himself, then dipped a hand in the water, wetting both the blade and the angled stone, then, holding either side where the scratch was located, he slid the scratched surface up and down along the angled stone, green eyes focused on the repetitive action.
“Um,” one of the 3A students tried their best to whisper and grab the attention of either of the conscious Gous, succeeding when Buzen turned to look at them, “What is he doing?”
Buzen tilted his head, “Repairing?” he answered, stating the obvious and doing nothing to expand upon his rare one-word answer. The student huffed, “No, I get that, but-” they gestured to Suishinshi, “isn’t he supposed to be attending to Kuwana’s injuries? Why is he sharpening his sword?”
“Not sharpening,” Buzen couldn’t help but correct his classmates, “Sanding, he’s getting the scratch out of Kuwa’s blade.”
“-And he is helping him,” Matsui’s soft voice interjected itself into the conversation, “Look.”
The group’s attention was directed to Kuwana’s exposed wound, a gash from his shoulder down across his chest that was an ugly, weird line of distorted yellows and purples, sliced open like an onion, layers of flesh and muscle pulsing with every breath he took. A stark contrast from the tanned skin that surrounded it, unbefitting and uncomfortably different from the normal flush the uchigatana would earn from a hard day of work in the fields.
Slowly but surely, the sound of the blade scraping against the stone accompanied the sight. Like the right amount of sand filling up a hole, pushing the top layer until it was level and seamless with the rest of the ground, like one of those zen sand gardens, raking the sand repeatedly, consistently, filling the gap with something. The wound stitched itself back together.
Their classmates stared, bewildered. Matsui, despite being the one to point out the process, tsked and kept his gaze averted. “It’s creepy.” He provided their noises of concern. Unlike humans, the danshi didn’t bleed. Such an invigorating shade of scarlet was all it took to make the healing process look less disturbing. More human.
Matsui never wanted to see his siblings pale over as humans did when they lost blood, a steady stream leaving their bodies and staining everything around them. It was unhygienic, messy to clean up, and unsightly to look at. Their appearance drained of, well, everything until it made him understand why ghosts would be depicted in a wispy white.
However, the sight of the people regaining their color, the warm undertones of their skin bringing life, was so much more hopeful to watch. He preferred the human’s slow but natural fight compared to the never-changing tone of a touken’s skin.
Compared to them, humans, that is, the touken could have died, their blade, their life, shattered with no hope of repair, and their eyes would be closed, bodies looking exactly the same as the day when they were first summoned. Like they were asleep, and no one would know any wiser.
Maybe then they would fade, maybe into a stream of light, or into a burst of soft cherry blossom petals, swaying in the breeze. Would their history, the hardships that they, as swords, serving by the side of their masters, lived through, would their hard-earned stories be erased? If so, what were they without their history? Maybe when their blades broke, they would be broken too.
And that scared him.
A firm hand was registered on his shoulder, the grip was gloved, and the feeling dragged him out of his musings.
“Buzen,” Matsui muttered, putting his own hand over his leader’s. “I’m fine.” He said before the other Gou could get a word out. Buzen just nodded and instead looked at the 2nd year. “Is it done yet?”
Suishinshi peered up at being addressed, his hands in the middle of wiping a light layer of oil on the sword. He made a noise of confirmation, “Yes, just allow me to assemble it…” He trailed off as he grasped for the tray from earlier. Easily reassembling the katana until it was properly wieldable again.
Buzen got up from his spot, taking and examining the finished product of his brother’s blade, handing it off to Matsui when he was satisfied.
“Thanks, Suishinshi.” He said, clapping the younger one on the back, to which Suishinshi made a startled squeak at the impact. The swordsmith made a recovery, clearing his throat and straightening up, “It was no issue, it was minimal damage, he should be okay now.” The 2nd year tried his best to appear nonchalant, tidying up his workspace, and handing Matsui the sheath when the other uchigatana held out a hand to cover the finished blade.
Then, a mop of purple/white hair popped into the tent, “Suishinshi!” Purple eyes immediately located the 2nd year and hopped over to stand beside him. The Edo Smith perked up, a soft “Kiyomaro” escaping alongside a breath in acknowledgment. The 3A members looked at the newcomer, categorizing him as one of the other 2nd-year Citadel students from their interaction.
Kiyomaro looked over at Kuwana’s cot, humming at the unblemished skin, “A job well done?” He asked, his tone betraying the fact that he seemed to have already known the answer. Suishinshi nevertheless answered him in an authoritative manner. “Of course.”
Buzen grinned, “Yup. It’s okay to wake him up now, right?” The older’s hands were already in the position to rattle the sleep out of his brother.
When Suishinshi gave his confirmation, the 3A classmates winced as Buzen grabbed hold of Kuwana’s shoulders, uncaring that he was gripping just below where the other had been injured, and shook him, “Kuwa!”
The uchigatana awoke with a yelp, hands flying to grab Buzen’s arms in an attempt to stabilize himself from his sudden awakening. “Wha-”
Matsui placed a calm hand, the one still holding the sword, on Kuwana’s back and the other on Buzen’s arm, effectively halting his movement. “Buzen,” he huffed, “he’s awake, you can stop.”
“Ah,” Buzen released the gardener with a smile, making way for Suishinshi to approach with a roll of bandages, “Kuwa, how do you feel?”
Kuwana shrugged, sitting up, “Like normal.” He said, looking down to acknowledge Suishinshi, who was wrapping the repaired torso and shoulder, “Thanks for the repair.”
“It was no issue,” Suishinshi said, “Just keep it wrapped for a couple of days to avoid irritating the new skin. Come back to me if anything about it feels wrong.”
Kuwana nodded, slipping back on the sleeve of both his hoodie and blazer properly once Suishinshi tucked in the end of the bandage, securing it. He zipped back up his hoodie, grabbing his sword from Matsui’s offered hand, and swung his legs over the edge of the cot, stepping onto the ground with a hovering hand from the other Gous just in case he fell over.
Before the 3A members knew it, their Citadel counterparts had cleared the tent, walking back out to rejoin their other classmates and leaving the 2nd year swords to clean up the repair tent. The upperclassmen looked at each other, then followed the Gous out, their faces agreeing that they were going to discuss all of whatever they just saw later.