With a slender hand pulling up the long sleeves of his elegant kimono, Mikazuki picked up the brush and dabbed the fine tip of fibers into the ink slab gently, gathering just the right proportion of ink to draw a stroke.

Mikazuki took a glance at the blank sheet of mulberry paper he had set out, then closed his eyes to gather the concentration and focus he would need.

A scurry of feet on wooden planks could be heard coming from the hallway, breaking the little concentration Mikazuki had gathered. Before he could think of a coherent response to tell them off, the noise had already died down. Leaving him once again in utter silence. Deciding to ignore the ruckus and what could have possibly aroused it, he went back to the task he had in hand.

With a flick of his wrist, Mikazuki traced out the first character that came to his mind, dragging the brush gracefully across the paper with precise movements. Almost as though he had done calligraphy since a child. Mikazuki's calm expression turned to one of confusion, as he looked at his completed piece of work with the character Ai 愛 painted, wondering why the first word that came to his mind was love.

Nonetheless, still pleased with his work, he placed it aside and re-dipped his brush into the ink slab. Once again, unconsciously letting his mind flow, he traced out the words Unmei no Yume (運命と夢) 'Destiny and Dreams'.

Before he could finish, the creaking of the hallways wooden floorboards under the scurry of feet could once again be heard. Mikazuki let out a sigh of frustration as he placed the brush down.

Waiting for the irritating noise to die down, he glanced at what he had down on paper so far; (運命) Unmei.

"Fate", he read out grimly, almost as though those words were poison on his lips.

A minute or two had passed, but the distraction from the hallway had yet to subside. It seemed as though with each passing second, the noise grew louder. And before he could comprehend what was going on, the scurrying of feet had turned to soft chatters.

"Do people not understand 'Quiet in the Hallways'?!", Mikazuki muttered rhetorically. Knowing that at this current moment, his presence in the house was being ignored.

He stood up and gripped onto the rim of the wooden screen door, raking it open in a sudden and forceful pull.
The swords all jolted abruptly, stopping in their tracks as the chatter instantly died down. Mikazuki turned his head left then right, glancing at each of the swords currently in the hallway.

"Urashima, Aizen, Shishiou", Mikazuki said aloud, naming out a few of the swords.

"What is the meaning of all this ruckus in the hallway?"

Gulps were heard from people swallowing their breaths, or saliva, they never knew they held in.

"... ... ..."

But no one answered. No one dared to break the deafening silence.

"Monoyoshi?"

"A-a sword... A sword is going to be born...", the light brown haired answered nervously.

Mikazuki could feel a smile beginning to form between his lips, but quickly stilled his facial nerves so the others wouldn't catch onto how joyous he was feeling at hearing the news. It had been quite a while since Saniwa-sama last went to the blacksmith for a sword. They were constantly too low on materials to be able to forge a new blade. Even with expeditions and battles, the materials gathered went to healing and providing armory for the swords.

"Single file, quietly head over to the summoning room and await Saniwa-sama's arrival."

"Yeesss!"

The swords announced in unison and headed to the summoning room in silence, none wanting to defy the eldest sword's words and get under his nerve.

Although none had ever seen him angry, no one wanted to be on its receiving end. His strength in battle was more than enough to prove how powerful he was if angered.

He alone could easily defeat any of the swords in the household.

All had gathered in the summoning room, with the female Saniwa kneeling at the front of the room. A household maid silently slid open the screen door and the Saniwa's personal blacksmith marched in. Kneeling before her, he placed down the newly forged blade and bowed respectfully to the Saniwa. The female Saniwa returned the bow as a gesture of thanks before her blacksmith exited the room.

The swords awed at the beauty of the newly forged blade placed in front of their Saniwa. A sword of pure white, from the hilt to the scabbard, marked with traces of gold lining.

"Tsurumaru!" Mikazuki mentally exclaimed, shocked that the other blade would suddenly appear before him. He wanted to dash forward and wrap the sword in his tight embrace, to feel the comforting cool metal beneath his fingertips. Anything to remind him that the other was still with him.

But that was when realization had hit him. The only sword he held onto so dearly in his heart, had long since perished. His human form returning to dust, along with the almighty Hojo clan. This sword was a counterfeit! Regardless how much this sword and it's human form had resembled the 'Tsurumaru' he knew, it wasn't him. The Tsurumaru he knew, cared so much for, had long since ceased to exist.

The female Saniwa held out her hands over the sword as a warm light of gold enveloped the sword. Mikazuki blinked, waking up from his momentary shock and eyed her movements as she began muttering a series of foreign words; an incantation.

"Incantation's?" He muttered in confusion.

A Saniwa breathing life into a sword was nothing new to him, but not one of them included incantations to be chanted during the ritual. And as though he had imagined it, fibers of gold strands appeared from her fingertips and engulfed the sword in a blinding golden light, before detaching themselves from the Saniwa's fingertips.

All the swords immediately shielded their eyes from the impact of the brilliant gold light. And as the light subsided, a child of pure white holding onto his large sword was revealed. White hair, pale white skin and dressed in a white battle kimono attire. If one did not see the child properly, he would've appeared almost translucent to them.

The sight of the child was absolutely mesmerizing for Mikazuki. A child born so pure that his physical form was entirely white. He was a complete opposite from himself.

Gazing at the child, for the first time in his entire existence, Mikazuki felt a sense of self-loath for himself. And although Mikazuki himself was beautiful, he was not of light. He was a being of darkness itself.

It was as though this child was born to remind himself of how corrupted he has become.

"Kuninaga Tsurumaru is the name I grant you, and from this day onward, you serve under the name of Yuriko." The female Saniwa announced, her voice loud and clear.

Hearing the name, Mikazuki clenched his fists against his side as he felt anger seething through. Was this child trying to replace the Tsurumaru he had known? His name, his place, his body… everything he had cherished was slowly fading away from him. Gradually becoming replaced by this counterfeit blade!

Mikazuki's eyes widened in surprise, his anger subsiding and breaking him out of his daze when he saw thin threads of gold encircling around the child before slowly getting absorbed into him.

"The threads of fate..." Mikazuki thought aloud, his expression turning dark.

He glanced around the room at the other swords, looking for a sign in them that they too had seen what he just had. But they all chattered amongst themselves while others watched Tsurumaru in awe.

He was the only one who noticed. No, he was the only sword who could see the threads.

"Those of you who still have duties to complete, get back to them. Others, you can show Tsurumaru around and play with him in the backyard. You are dismissed."

"Tsuru-chan, let's go! We'll show you your room first." Mutsunokami said cheerfully, pulling the white haired child along the arms with a few other swords trailing him from behind.

Some had chatted in the room for a few more minutes, but gradually all made their way out.

All except Mikazuki.

"What do you want, Mikazuki? I am sure I made myself clear that everyone is dismissed" The female saniwa remarked, nodding to the maid outside as a gesture for her to close the door.

"What are you implying, Yuriko?" Mikazuki asked while he clenched his fist against his side.

"What do you mean?" She responded with a chuckle.

"Don't try to feign ignorance with me!" He spat, "I know what you did there. Summoning up those threads and binding it to the boy, those are not actions of a Saniwa sage, but rather those of the... Observer."

"Seems like you've figured out who I am."

"I'll ask again. What are your intentions with Tsurumaru?"

"You'll thank me sooner or later for what I did," the female Saniwa answered, deliberately avoiding his question.

"You saw how pure his sword was... don't try and dye him in your colours by controlling his fate... I'll kill you." Mikazuki threatened, giving a final warning before making his exit out the room. He didn't know why he was covering up for the new blade. But there was something about him which entranced him. And before he knew it, he found himself unable to ignore the presence of the younger sword.