[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Kota grinned. "Not bad at all," he agreed. Really, it was one of the better experiences he'd had with baths. And, he supposed, the environment had been completely different. Inside, with no threat of being attacked, no cold wind or air... And with the warm water and lack of wildlife, yeah--he definitely didn't mind baths that much at all, this time around.     They were going to be here for a little while, weren't they? And if Muramasa was going to have to leave to work and make swords and things, and Kota wasn't supposed to be outside in the cold rain (for whatever reason), then he definitely wouldn't mind taking another bath again in the near future. And, he supposed, trying to practice writing would be something to do, too... since he wasn't going to be outside searching for shelter, or food to hunt, or avoiding the attention of wildlife or strangers...     Damn, that's so crazy, Kota thought to himself. He couldn't remember a time he'd been cooped up inside for so long, so the immediate future was going to be a pretty new experience to him overall. Hopefully he wouldn't die from boredom. It'd never been a problem he'd had to face, before.     "I've eaten rats, before," Kota answered Muramasa's question. Rats, to him, were prey. Food. Akin to rabbits and snakes and--well, any other animal that Kota thought he could overpower and kill. "But also, I saw some when we were outside earlier. One 'ad a little backpack on it, an' it was swimmin' through the water. It was unbelievable." Were rats here like pets? Or were they like little ninja, too.     Definitely a crazy place.     What other few cities or towns he'd been in, the rats there certainly seemed more like the ones he was accustomed to in the wild. Certainly not liked by the populace, and not freely roaming without fear of being hurt at any moment. Definitely not pets. Pests, more like.     Just like me, Kota thought, pursing his lips as he moved things around in the spare room while Muramasa took a bath of his own.     When Muramasa came back out from the bathroom and approached the spare room to watch, he'd see as Kota finished lying things about. The futon was hardly made to be neat or presentable--there were blankets strewn about the place, bunched up. Yō had been brought over closer to the mess as well, the puppet reclined amidst the heap of blankets where Kota himself was sitting upright.     A nest.     Kota nodded at Muramasa's question, then looked up at him expectantly and patted the futon for the teen to come over. "Hey, Masa, I've gotta question," he asked quietly, though he'd wait for the older wanderer to hopefully join him on the floor first. "What kinda animal am I?"

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

a reflection of the past

---

Not bad. A big step up from hating baths. Hygiene wasn't always at the top of the priority list when you had to worry about day-to-day survival but it was still important. They had to tend to it while they could.

At the mention of eating rats Muramasa blinked. "..." Rodents. For food? "...no more eating rats, Kota."

Beggars couldn't always be choosers, but from now on he'd be sure to find them better food sources. A bit more substantial at least. As the boy spoke of rats with backpacks his expression grew even more concerned. Maybe that blow to head was making him loopy? Either that or he saw something Muramasa hadn't. Shinobi animals maybe?

Strange. Talk of odd selections of food did bring back memories though. Of his time with Hanagisa. He spent a good deal of time thinking on it while bathing. Deciding to share once he was out. "I did eat a snake once..."

Probably the strangest thing he'd ever had to. "My master made me. When we were traveling." Still leaning against the doorframe, his brow furrowed a touch. "Her cooking was... not great." Awful, more like. But it was a necessary part of survival training. Sometimes one had no choice. So he couldn't exactly fault the boy...

...but hopefully they wouldn't need to again anytime soon. Kota had been busy building a secure-looking blanket pile while he was bathing. The child patted the futon and Muramasa obliged, moving to sit. 'Masa' he called him.

Bringing another thought to mind. "Hm..." The older wanderer pondered his question. "In a nest like this, you almost look like a sparrow." A joke. Or an attempt at half of one at least. He glanced at the boy, taking some time to think about it further. Kota was wild. Some might say feral. But he was resourceful. Clever. Tough too.

To him, the real answer was obvious. "I think... you're more like a wolf." He said. "You're a survivor. Fierce, protective... loyal to your own." Holding a thumb and finger close to indicate 'tiny'. "But just a pup." For now at least. It seemed fitting to him. "What do you think I am?" He asked. More humoring the child than anything.

Hanagisa once called him a wolf pup. Long ago when they met. True then, and truer now. "By the way..." He said, his expression softening a bit. "You can call me Uemon."  His given name. One he did not tell to most.

"Muramasa is just my family's name." The older wanderer explained. "Do you have one too?"

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine "No more?" Kota echoed, unsure. He wasn't sure how he really felt about being told such a thing, but as Muramasa left to take his own bath, Kota pondered on it some more. Muramasa had already been a pretty reliable provider when it came to food--as was his father. And that one kidnapper. And that other stranger.     ...     Probably the only thing adults were good for, was that they were much better at getting food than he was.     And Kota doubted Muramasa had any real issue with Kota doing what he needed to do in order to survive. It sounded more like... a promise. Almost. Really, if Kota wanted to eat a rat, or a snake, or a lizard, or any other creature he could get his hands on--Muramasa probably wouldn't be able to stop him.     But, so long as he wasn't starving and those were the only things he could get his hands on, then they likely wouldn't bump heads in that way anyhow. Besides, there had been plenty of times when Kota had been aching even worse for hunger--plenty of times he'd had to get by with less. Or worse, nothing at all.     Muramasa would likely not be thrilled to know about the many times Kota had stolen from garbage cans back in Kuwana, or slept on an empty stomach entirely.     Though, when Muramasa returned, he had done some reflection of his own, it seemed, and shed some light on an experience of his own. Being forced to eat a snake because his master had once told him to. Kota grinned. "Yeah, I don't love snakes a lot." They weren't the most tasty.     But he wasn't often one to complain about food.     Muramasa joined him on the floor, taking a seat on the futon as the child had ushered for him to. In what Kota took as a compliment, Muramasa compared the boy to a sparrow, and the boy grinned cheekily. Certainly not thinking himself much of a bird, but he could see where the comparison had come from, after all. Though, a more serious response followed.     Like a wolf, huh?     Kota almost thought he was just biased, but when Muramasa went in to explain a bit further, it made sense.     Just a pup, though. Kota pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he listened. He wasn't sure if he was any of those things, but he wasn't sure if he wasn't, either. He was a survivor, and he thought himself fierce--though it usually felt more like an act than anything. But, still... if he was able to trick others into being intimidated--then so long as he was perceived that way, it didn't really matter... right?     Kota wasn't sure if he was protective, or loyal necessarily. Really, it wasn't something he'd ever thought about for himself, or considered. But perhaps Muramasa simply saw something he hadn't. Maybe it's just 'cause he's special, Kota reasoned. 'Cause I don't wanna get split up from him, but that's just because I like him a lot.     And I'm scared of being alone.     Kota smiled slightly and curled up in the blankets, shyly looking up at Muramasa as he pulled one of the sheets in a bunch close to his chest. "I think you're like a wolf, too," He said. Not just for his bias towards the animal--since Muramasa had two puppets created in the likeness of them, as well as some history relating to the beasts. But there was more, too.     Body language, appearance, behavior.     He was just very similar, in Kota's eyes. Scruffy, coarse, and wild dark hair, a more serious gaze more often than not, but a shy kindness still within him. Fierce, powerful, dangerous in his own right, and yet... well, if Kota was a pup, Muramasa was quick to defend his young. Protective. Just like a good leader.     "Though," the boy's expression softened slightly, "more like onea the kinda wolves that is alone." Since Muramasa had left behind his family to pursue his own ambitions of revenge. Understandable, but yet one of solitude nonetheless. "And wolves on their own usually die. They're pack animals." The trope of a lone wolf being dangerous was more a myth than anything. Wolves were most powerful in their coordination and numbers. They thrived in a pack.     Which would make for the both of us, Kota thought.     One leaving his group to face the risks and dangers, alone.     The other left behind and abandoned to face the world only by himself.     But, despite the odds, they'd both survived. And, somehow, crossed paths. "We're like a pack now, though, ain't we? Even if it's just the two of us." Two seemed a good enough number, to him.     Then, Muramasa gave a name. Another name. Uemon.     Uemon? He had two names? Kota stared for a little while, processing the information. Is Uemon his secret name? So, he usually went by his family name...? Meaning it was a name they all shared, right? Did most people have more than one name? Kota rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a while as he tried to think back on if he had one or not, himself.     It sounded right, like it was something he was also supposed to have. And a small part of him remembered something like that--a long time ago, his father saying something about them being something or other.     But it wasn't something that had come up often.     After all, they rarely interacted with strangers for very long, and Kota had always just been called "Kota". And his dad was just "Dad".     "I can't remember," he answered truthfully. "Probably."

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

hope for the future

---

A shake of his head. No more rats. Or snakes. Not if he could help it.

Growing up on the road left him with a certain level of gratitude for things. Food being a major one. His family was never wealthy, but they were able to feed themselves. Traveling with a no-nonsense rōnin was a bit more... utilitarian.

Still, it did provide him with invaluable experiences. Uemon could build a fire, hunt, fish (though he hated seafood), and create makeshift shelter if need be. Mostly it was just learning how to fight. How to properly wield a sword, where to strike... how best to kill a man. Hanagisa taught him other things too. Philosophy. Strategy. Haiku, even.

Love too. In her own way, and likely not by choice.. Maybe it seemed like childish infatuation... but it wasn't to him.

Along the way he glimpsed some impossible-to-reach softer side. She was a harsh teacher, but a good one. Now it was his turn. To take the good and substitute the bad. Unlike her, he would not steer Kota down a path of blood...

...or at least, he'd try his best not to. The corner of his mouth perked up just slightly as the boy said he was like a wolf too. "Maybe so." Then he stated that he was alone. His gaze grew distant as he stared off. Thinking on those few people in his life that had come and gone. "He's not wrong." Family across the sea. Friends who left or were left.

Wolves without packs went hungry. Couldn't defend themselves. Died. "...that sounds about right."

Tales like his did not have happy endings. Something he resigned himself to long ago. The boy said that they were like a pack now. Uemon thought about it... then nodded. "We are." A pack of two. Something he never once anticipated. But... perhaps it wasn't the worst thing. "So we have to stick together." A glance was given to the boy along with a soft half smile. "Right?" For as long as they needed to. As long as they could. Until...

'Until'. Part of him was still expecting this to come to an end. Kota ruminated for a bit on his surname. It seemed to be lost along with his father. "You might remember one day." The mind hid all sorts of secrets. "For now?" He began, grabbing hold of the blanket Kota clutched and tucking him in. "Bedtime." It was late. He needed rest.

Doing his best to make the boy comfortable, he placed the back of his hand against his forehead. To check for any remnant of a fever... just to be safe. Then he paused. Hesitated... before turning his hand over. Slowly and—

Gently placed it atop his head. Displays of affection were difficult for him. But he tried. "Goodnight, Kota."

Standing for a moment, he moved to turn off the light. He thought briefly about heading to the living area, but decided against it. At least not until the boy was asleep. Instead, he returned to the futon to lie down on his back.

Next to Kota. It wouldn't hurt to rest his eyes some... and when sleep didn't come? He would write. Sketch. Plan.

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Kota laid there quietly amidst his pile of blankets, searching Muramasa's expression carefully as he responded. Then, an agreement. So, it was settled. They were a pack. Reminded of the conversation he'd had with Mikazuki--assuring that wherever he went, Kota would go, too. But it felt more concrete, now. A change of identity, in a way. Not just a wanderer and a stray he picked up--but a pair. A duo that wouldn't be separated. They had to stick together, Uemon said, waiting for a confirmation of his own from the child.     He closed his eyes and smiled brightly. "Yea," he replied. "For-ever."     It sounded like a dream. And hearing the older wanderer agree to the sentiment brought a bubbling excitement to Kota's chest. A feeling of joy that was difficult to contain, and something he hadn't felt in a great deal of time.     The boy gave no protest when Uemon took the blanket from his grasp to rest it over his form, albeit caught off guard by the gesture. And when Uemon's hand moved to press lightly against the boy's forehead, Kota eased at the touch. "Mhm..." Maybe one day he'd remember. Kota doubted it, but he didn't really think his name mattered. His family name, at least--he was Kota. That's all that was really important, he supposed. But, maybe Muramasa was right... "G'night, Uemon," the boy whispered back, uncertain.     It was a change he wasn't used to, Muramasa had been--well, Muramasa--for as long as he'd known him. Granted, it hadn't been for that long, but it was long enough that he was already Muramasa in Kota's mind.     But, if he was sharing his secret other name, perhaps that's what he wanted to be called by. And Kota did like being let in on the secret name--it felt special. And Kota felt special being trusted with the secret name.     Closing his eyes, the lights were turned off and Muramasa joined him once more, resting alongside the child.     For a good while, there would be silence. Only the sound of rain hitting the roof from outside, and Kota's soft breathing as he slipped in and out of slumber.     After a while, the silence would be broken when Kota whispered, "Hey, Uemon?" There was a pause, the boy blinking a few times in the darkness of the room. Still, drowsy, he closed his eyes again and exhaled. "Y'know? B'fore you... Things were a lot scarier, an'..." He frowned, slightly, opening his eyes slowly once more to look over to the other wanderer. His eyes having adjusted to the dark, he could make out the faint silhouette of his profile. "I was really sad."     The best way he knew how to explain it.     The boy rolled over and curled up on his side, scooting himself closer to Muramasa and nuzzling his cheek against the elder's arm as he dozed off once more.

✜