Chapter seven
RTR:
RobinIV - Heh! I wasn't expecting peole to want Arashi's and Ame's tales ... so I'm now working on a series of one shots to be posted with the compleation of this fic.
Yersi Fanel - Thank you!
mischievious-lil-kitsune - (Looks at pictures) Wow, Kiri, you look shockingly good in a dress. Lol.
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"Stay still!"
"But Kiri …"
There was a giggle as Kiri adjusted the horned circlet on Kumo's head. "There, I think that's strait now." Kiri took a step back to examine his handy work, dropping to his knees to adjust the holster around Kumo's waist. "You big scruff bag," He scolded, yet the scold held no real venom. Kiri straitened again. "Whatever you do, don't knock your circlet."
All around this ritual occurred, parents setting horned circlets strait onto anxious heads as ten year olds waited to be called and examined, their skills honed over the last five years for this one moment. Kiri had looked around earlier to see that no other child had only one family member present and it hurt him. "Remember what I told you? If the crystal breaks then your not worthy, it happened to most of those at my presentation." Kiri had often told Kumo about his first swords dance, he had been one of only ten to gain a Maken, ten of a hundred.
"What'll I do if I fail?"
"Walk away, let the sword drop and whatever you do, don't cry."
Kumo ducked his head, "I wish mum and dad were here," He murmured, tears leaking into his tones and the corners of his eyes. In a rare display of warmth, Kiri hugged him tightly, letting the younger boy cry.
Stroking the back of Kumo's head, Kiri fought hard to keep his own tears inside, "You listen to me whitey," Kiri instructed, pushing Kumo out to arms length. "Who made the sword you're about to lift?" His hand went to his own swords hilt, "Who made this one?" Drying his eyes with the heel of his hand, Kumo shrugged and shook his head. "I know you know the answer, the same person made your holster, your circlet and you."
"Mum did,"
"Exactly, they're both here today little brother, don't forget that."
"Shiroi Kumo,"
The two shared a look as the name was called; Kiri patted Kumo's back pushing him towards the door. A hush fell over the room as the young boy left, everyone appreciated what he was about to go through. Sound soon rushed back in on Kiri and he was assaulted by children's voices that were filled with excitement.
Waiting, Kiri realised, was far worse then going through the test yourself, that part had been easy. You took the sword from its cushion, praying that the crystal did not crack, and then you delivered the sword dance, speaking the words that you felt in your heart. Kiri closed his eyes, remembering his own pledge as his hand went to the hilt of his sword, 'Today I am no longer myself alone, now my soul links to this blade. I shall use it to protect, defend and save, never shall it leave my side.'
Kiri opened his eyes when an official approached him, "Come with me," Came the instruction and Kiri did so, his heart thundering in his chest. After appearing before the six strong committee, the child was moved to one side of the side rooms to await their family. Kiri remembered that too, how hard it had been for him to stay still and not bounce around the small room yelling 'I did it!' "Here, you have ten minutes."
"Thank you,"
Kiri pushed open the door, a small figure stood with his back to him, shoulders shuddering. Swallowing, Kiri tried to think of something to say. Kumo looked over his shoulder at his brother, tears on his cheeks. "Something bad happened," The child murmured, his back still to him, he stopped looking over his shoulder. "They nearly gave me the wrong sword, then one of the officials asked me if I wanted to be tested because I didn't have a proper colour."
Kiri felt his blood boiling, "Which one was it Kumo!" He barked, "They'll feel my wrath for suggesting that, today of all days."
Kumo turned, in his hands he held a slender white sword; there were tears in his eyes and he was shaking. "I'm okay, Kiri. I did it; I couldn't let you all down." His green eyes brimmed over again and Kiri crossed to hug him, tears of pride for his little brother in his eyes.
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Calling the Maken into his hands, Makenshi held it so he could look at both Kiri's and his own sword. Sora had made hundreds of swords in her life time but only two like Kumo's, a red one and a white one, based on the rose tinted one owned by their father.
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TBC