The Mastermind is a Middle School Student (KHR FF)

Reunion (and Goodbyes)

(34:)

[-1-]

The first thing Takeshi thought was;

Wow.

The second thing Takeshi thought was;

Wow.

It was said that one of Takeshi's ancestors was a poet.

Born into the decadent and lavish lifestyle of the increasingly worsening nobility, he fell in love with the beauty of the tranquil zen garden which the aristocrats had only put up for appearances. While reciting aloud a spontaneous poem, a melodic flute accompaniment suddenly appeared to support his voice. The flutist turned out to be the long absent nephew of the Emperor, who then asked his ancestor this;

"What is it that has caused you to describe dead wooden sprigs as blushed as a fair maiden's cheek?"

To which, the ancestor answered, "For they both turn involuntary eyes, leaving only a glimpse to accompany bystanders for eternity."

The flutist laughed heartily, and sold his own flute to the poet. "You are certainly a gentleman of the art. While presumptuous, would you be so kind as to take my flute?"

His ancestor accepted the deal.

The flutist smiled, "I would be settled, as to know someone as refined as you have taken care of them."

The poet paid no mind to the thanks, and happily brought the flute back home to be placed in a secure box. Perhaps as bragging rights - after all, this is the flute personally entrusted unto him by the nephew of the Emperor, second in line to the throne at the time.

It was only months later, where it would become well known throughout high society that the flutist had joined up with a foreign revolutionary group outside of their land. Inspired by the story of a gentle flutist turned swordsman, the poet wrote their entire encounter into a long poem.

Takeshi wasn't exactly a poet, nor a refined scholar, but even the most illiterate restless child could not help but follow along the spoken story. The family seemed to take this poet as a family keepsake, passing it on orally to each new generation - while the written original is kept safely in the main branch of the clan, in Kyoto. Takeshi himself had only been to the main quarters twice, as a small child being presented to the clan head, and then as a slightly older child upon the death of his mother.

The main branch seems to have a sort of tense atmosphere in the air, entirely incongruous with the image of the romantic-esque poem each of the members had apparently memorized, intentionally or not. Takeshi being as carefree as he is, never grew to like a stern environment, but could appreciate the irony of a romantic soul beneath the square jaw members of the main family. At least if he's forced to go to the headquarters once more, maybe when he gets married and must announce the decision to the clan head, he could strike up a conversation with the other members using the poem.

As such, at this moment, while he himself could only conjure up meaningless "Wow" and "Wow", an excerpt from the poem surfaced uncontrollably from the depth of his memory.

- "And came a string as sharp as the edge of a beloved sword"
- "But it was not more than the shrill of a well shaped flute that I had mistaken."

Staring at the curved eyes of Yukimura, Takeshi suddenly wondered if this is the same feeling that his ancestor had experienced.

That odd feeling where something mundane felt as if it hid a sharp blade. Something dangerous.

"Oya? What gave it away?" Yukimura smiled, oddly for his current situation. His usually gentle smiles turned into a grin, showing off sharp white fangs lightly grazing his bottom lips. "I thought for sure you wouldn't realise."