I own nothing. Please enjoy. God bless.
No sword in the citadel could really understand why the most beautiful of all the swords, Mikazuki Munechika, had taken such a liking to the gloomiest of them all, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro or why the master approved of it so thoroughly.
Not even Yamanbagiri really knew why but he could not really do much about it because every mission assigned and every duty given to a pathetic copy like him, Mikazuki was always chosen by the master to accompany him.
It was beginning to annoy Yamanbagiri but not for the reasons you might think.
He did not dislike Mikazuki who always seemed to have a kind and interesting thing to say about anything and everything. Mikazuki was a kind, wise and beautiful sword who was patient enough to put up with someone like him and those were all traits to be admired.
Despite all Yamanbagiri's faults, the Sanjo sword still pretended as though he enjoyed his company. It was a strong illusion but the copy knew it could never be real.
However, what he didn't get was why.
On the moments he was feeling rather brave, he even tried to confront him and ask Mikazuki why he pretended all the time and why he wouldn't tell Yamanbagiri what he really thought of him but every time, he changed it to something else like 'Why is it so cloudy?' or 'Why is it raining so hard?'.
And Mikazuki would just smile and say something odd.
'Because of the great tragedy that is something beautiful hiding under a filthy sheet.'
Of course a copy like him would never be brave enough to ask some stupid question.
It was because of his cowardice and filth that Yamambagiri became rather depressed one idle Sunday night and so he went to the storeroom to drink away his troubles as he often did.
No one really minded and no one really bothered him when he sat beside the storeroom door with alcohol except Tsurumaru but the crane was off on a mission along with Mikazuki now and would be for the next several hours so Yamanbagiri could drink in peace.
A pale crescent moon was high in the night sky and the copy pulled his hood further over his eyes to hide it from view.
Alcohol was not tasty and getting intoxicated was far from fun. He knew he may have become a bit addicted to the drink since he acquired the human body. He knew this and yet he did not care because it let him think just a little bit less.
Perhaps that was the appeal that Jiroutachi saw in it.
"You will catch a cold," said a familiar whimsical voice "If you stay in the cold too long."
Yamanbagiri's head shot up to see none other than Mikazuki standing in front of him, clad in his idle attire.
"What are you…." The very drunk copy slurred and the other laughed in response.
"My mission is over." He said with a kind smile "When I saw that you weren't in your room, I got worried."
"Why…?"
"Like I said, because you could catch a cold."
There was a silence that broke out between the two and what Yamanbagiri failed to realize was that the courage he lacked sober was gained when he was drunk and before he could stop himself, he just said it.
"Why...do you pretend…. To be my friend…?"
He did not see Mikazuki's face because his vision was blurred but he knew the Sanjo sword was shocked so he continued.
"A sword like you…." Yamanbagiri muttered "Shouldn't be friends…. With… A copy….."
"Now now, young man."
He stopped because Mikazuki approached him and sat down beside him at the storehouse door.
"You appear to think an old man like me a liar." He began, looking mildly offended.
"No…." Yamanbagiri lazily looked away.
"You think I am a child, then?"
"No." He said again, this time more fervently.
"Than why," Mikazuki turned his head to look him straight in the eye as he said in all seriousness "Would I be pretending when I say that you do hold value in my eyes, copy or not?"
The copy shifted uncomfortably, his face flushed and his logic scrambled.
"...Do you… Really mean that?"
"Yes I do." Was Mikazuki's quick reply.
Not a moment afterwards, he got to his feet with his hand on Yamanbagiri's arm to pull him up with him and the less sober of the two was far from prepared for it.
His sudden nausea and dizziness shut up any complaints he might have and perhaps that was Mikazuki's goal.
"Now," said the now smiling Mikazuki as he began to walk in the general direction of Yamanbagiri's room "Let's get you to bed. I'm sure you are very cold."
That was not true.
Even through his intoxication, Yamanbagiri knew that he was not cold but rather he was very warm.
On the inside, anyway.