Tangled Threads of Tradition and Love

C̶h̶a̶p̶t̶e̶r̶-3

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❃𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰❃

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Akira felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him after somewhat botching his initial interaction with Huan. Why had he stared like that? He must have looked like a total creep! Who knows what Huan thought of him now...

Trying to shake off his nerves, Akira unpacked his bag, carefully setting his calligraphy set on his side of the desk. Calligraphy was his favorite hobby, a soothing and meditative practice that always helped him center himself. He glanced over at Huan's side of the room, where Huan was hoisting a long case onto the table. When Huan clicked the case open, Akira caught sight of a sheathed longsword. It was exquisite, with a dark navy blue hilt and a red and blue string adorned with a pendant for good luck. The sword had an aura, almost as if it possessed a spirit. Akira thought it resembled a cultivator's long sword, a jian, or in his own language, a daito.

"Is that your sword?" Akira asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. "It's really beautiful."

Huan looked at him, seemingly surprised by the question, he hadn't expected Akira to talk to him. He pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah... Me and a friend made it... last month."

Akira moved closer, intrigued by the sword's aura. Could it actually be a spiritual sword? He had always thought only cultivators possessed such weapons, which required a golden core to control. Did that mean Huan was a cultivator, or was he just overthinking?

"Does your sword have a name?" Akira asked again.

Huan bit his lip, looking slightly uneasy. "Yes... Woliu."

As if responding to its name, the sword hummed softly, vibrating in its case. Huan quickly closed the case and set it against the wall, offering an awkward smile. "It does that sometimes."

The case hummed again, almost as if the sword inside was offended by being referred to as "it."

"Does your katana have a name?" Huan asked, a composed smile on his face.

Akira shook his head. "Not really... no." He looked at Huan more intently. Huan had those beautiful brown eyes, jet-black hair, and a smile as sweet as candy, but there was something about him that felt off, as if he were constantly hiding something. "Is—" Akira hesitated, unsure if he should ask.

"Is... what?" Huan tilted his head innocently, almost too innocently.

Akira bit his inner cheek, deciding against prying. "You know what, never mind... we should probably set up our room."

"Agreed," Huan nodded and went back to organizing his belongings.

Akira returned to his desk, setting a calendar on it. He glanced back at Huan and the case, wondering about the mysteries it held. He knew he could use his Tamina-me to see golden cores, but invading Huan's privacy that way felt wrong and creepy. Instead, he opted to focus on his own tasks, though he couldn't deny Huan's attractiveness lingered in his mind.