Touken Ramblings | Touken Danshi x Reader

Try

This is edited from a personal fic I made of Honebami so yeh....pls pardon me. Edited it to appeal to everyone.

Warnings: Mentions of fire, slight angst. General hurt/comfort I swear. Could be seen as a prequel to Hot.

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Honebami was half ready for those flames to take him too.

Take him to a place where his master would lie, waiting for him.

But he was alive. Safe and sound. A gloved hand holding on to the bare one of his master, someone dear to his heart, who lain in a cot in the infirmary. Gadgets and gizmos hooked up to their arm, veins pulsing with whatever ichor attempted to bring them back to him.

Gods, how much longer must he wait?

He wasn't used to such emotions, but they flooded him faster than the flames that almost stole him and his brothers away.

The sword should be used to it by then. But still...

The wakizashi jolts when he feels a pulse from their wrist, muffled by the cloth of his gloves but immediately does the young man rip them from his palms, digits pressed against them – oh, oh.

Gods, thank you.

"Master?" he calls out their name gently, life coming back to their feeble fingers, twitching his touch. He beckons out to them, voice hoarse from sobbing into the shoulder of twin earlier – croaks turning to whispers, desperation splatted against each syllable that passes from his cracked lips.

"Ba...mi?"

Colored hues stare up at him, full of exhaustion. A weak smile that caused his stillborn heart to beat again, lost when they had been consumed by the flames. "I am here." Came a murmur. "How...are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Came such a crass word from their lips, causing the white haired young man to almost snort. Their hand leaves his, shaking as it reaches his cheek, a butterfly kiss of a touch – grazing his skin. Assisting them, his hand rests against theirs, leaning into the touch. "I'm sorry..."

"You could have died." A flat yet cross emotion was evident in his tone of voice. Seeing those flames consume them, their screams piercing his ears – he almost died alongside them. He wanted to die again if it was possible. They hurt him, scorched him. He thought they wouldn't hurt as much compared to the time he became blackened and burnt.

Honebami was oh so wrong.

"Bami..." The sage forces a smile to their mouth, "I'm sorry. I...I just wanted to," sheepishly do they bring a free hand to their neck, almost feeling for something. They stop when all they touches is bare skin. "M-My..." there is a hiss as the master jolts upright, a scream nigh rending from their lips. "Where is-"

"Master, please," a hand now against their back, rubbing soothing circles into their skin. The other still held their hand in his grasp, "You're still hurt."

"But the necklace you gave me!" panic gripped their bones, tears shimmering in their eyes.

"Kashuu has it, he's fixing it." Honebami could see the recognition in their eyes when he mentioned one of the swords of Okita, shoulders sinking. "Lie back down. Please."

"But..."

"I'll stay with you." Honebami shifts from his chair to their cot, small and cramped as it is – similar to the futons he shares with his little brothers. A hand still on their back, and the other bringing their hand up to his lips, pressing a timid kiss to the back of it. "Just...just don't ever run into fire like that again."

A choke of a laugh was heard from the sage, who only shrugs their shoulders. "I can try, Honebami. I can try."

"Then try harder." Came his matter-of-fact words, a smile to his lips as they giggles again. He rests his chin against the sage's shoulder, almost purring as they wrapped their arm around him.

Honebami would try harder to protect them.

Even if he must be torn asunder by the flames of hell.

No...he had to.