doubleshifts | open rp post

[ continued! ]

Welcome home.

[ Kazan's voice rumbles from within a room to the side of the house's foyer, its shoji slid open to admit the cool night breeze. Kazan himself, clothed in a black yukata with his long white hair tied back, is seated at the chabudai, sorting through a scattering of documents in front of him. A lamp rests at one corner. Its warm glow illuminates the clean tatami and the freshly painted walls around Kazan—and lends life to the deathly tint of his skin, a lingering reminder of the time spent in the Entity's realm.

Also on the chabudai is a smartphone, its screen still showing the keypad after a call made to Rin when the hour for her expected arrival passed by. ]

[ the moment that rin hears her grandfather, she quickly follows his voice and arrives in the sitting area of their home. fortunately the shoji's open for her to just walk in, though clumsily. fortunately, she doesn't trip as she gives her ancestor a respectful bow.

the golden foil tip of a large bottle of sake can be seen as she does. once upright, rin smiles. ]

Good evening, Grandfather! [ immediately she moves to take a seat by the chabudai, not touching anything that looks important despite the excitement obvious in her voice and movement. ] It looks like you're working. Would you like a break if you are?

[ that moment when a drunken rin is much more relaxed and talkative than normal as though there's nothing wrong with the world. currently, there isn't. she's just enjoying her time with family. what's not to love about that? this is their good ending after trials by the entity for god knows how long. ]

[ he raises his eyebrows at Rin's noisy approach, taking note of her flushed cheeks as she sits down. Clearly, she enjoyed herself—perhaps a little too much. But he says nothing to chastise her. It's not like he hasn't had ( more than ) his share of boisterous nights. And the sight of her face bright with a smile instead of tears is a sight that he'll always welcome.

He nods in response to her question, laying down the paper he was examining. It's an old invoice for renovations to the arbor on the grounds, circa early 20th century. The rest of the documents are more of the same: together, a record of ( almost ) everything done to the house and the rest of the estate throughout the centuries. ]

And you must rest as well. [ with a grunt, he gets to his feet. ] Wait here.

[ Kazan leaves the room. After a few moments, he returns with two glasses of cold barley tea. Seating himself again, he sets one aside and puts the other one in front of Rin. ]

Drink.

[ when her grandfather says wait, rin does so and settles the brown paper bag beside her.

where is he going, she wonders while watching him leave the room as she holds onto the papers that her grandfather reads. nothing comes from rin's throat except the sound of acknowledgement that he's going to get something then return.

eyes skim through the details while her mind stays pleasantly light as if floating in the sea — some questions come to mind already and one of them is: how long has he been reading these? is he worried? did he just want to look at it? does he need help? in the back of her more sober mind, rin already wants to ask. eventually, that is.

currently, a drunken rin has a certain priority because she's been thinking about the answers the entire time while shopping for the bundle of surprise she wants to give him.

when he arrives with their drinks, rin holds the chilled cup in her hands. ]

Thank you. [ with that said, she drinks. already most of it disappears, thirst apparent. ] It's delicious.

[ cold tea is not an instant cure all when it comes to being inebriated, but the hydration and change of taste will eventually have run clear of mind. for now, however: ]

Now that we're both resting, I believe you owe me the story of you and grandmother.

[ watching Rin all but gulp down the tea, Kazan smiles, a rare expression. It tugs at the scars crisscrossing his lips and jaw. Another mark of the Entity left over from how it had twisted his features into that of an oni to better fit with the rest of his terrifying appearance. The pale slashes form a grotesque pattern as startling as his mask had been—enough that he has to conceal it with a plain half-mask when receiving visitors to the estate.

But now, alone with his descendant who's witnessed far worse from him, he sees no reason to wear it. And that mask with its restless third eye is nowhere to be seen.

He moves the other glass closer to Rin. ]

Yes. But you will remember none of it if I tell it to you now. It would be better to wait until the morning.

[ stern words—on their surface. The tone he speaks them with, however, is deliberately dry, making it obvious how lightly Rin needs to push to make him "yield" to her curiosity. ]

[ tomorrow? but tomorrow's so long from the present, she thinks ever so clearly while taking the offered glass of barley tea. before she speaks however, rin finishes the remains of her current cup before raising the new one halfway. ]

Morning? But you said that you would tell me once I'm home. [ of course rin doesn't forget the message he said after she asks her questions — the hypothetical answers she envisioned hours ago keeps her focused. did they meet when they were young? did he save her from trouble? ] Please, Grandfather? I've always wondered what she was like.

[ the only few things rin knows about lady yamaoka and akito yamaoka are both through the small details her grandfather decides to share and through the history lessons her no-longer-father told her previously through old books that are still safely kept in the house. the history of the family as she was made to read when she was younger, how she should be proud of the samurai heritage that runs through her blood.

previously only shrugging it off, rin embraces her heritage now. though mostly the concept that it's her family moreso than having samurai ancestry. even though she still feels a sort of power when she thinks about it. no fear, be brave, be honorable. ]

[ he sighs, as if feigning exasperation with Rin. But it's more to collect his thoughts than anything else. To steel himself against the memories welling up at her question. ]

Very well.

[ after a pause, Kazan starts speaking. His voice is quiet, its usual storm calmed by nostalgia. ]

Her name was Matsu. [ with a nearby pencil, he writes out the kanji forming it in the margin of one of the documents: 茉 ( "jasmine" ) and 津 ( "harbor, haven" ). Smooth, steady stokes betraying nothing of the turmoil within him at seeing that name again. ] Like so. She was the youngest daughter of her family—samurai as well. Our fathers had fought side by side before on the battlefield.

[ another pause. The pencil rolls between his fingers for a moment before he gently lays it down. ]

She was... brave. In both her actions and her words. Perhaps because she was so doted upon by her elder siblings and her parents that she never learned to hold her tongue. [ disparaging words—if they didn't carry an almost wistful amusement as he recalls half-serious arguments with her where he'd described her in the exact same way. ] But I did not know that—or knew anything about what she was like—until after our wedding. That night was the first time we met.

[ as she listens to her grandfather's words, rin's eyes rest towards the name he writes on the document. matsu yamaoka — the person who claims her grandfather's heart. ]

An arranged marriage...

[ rin shouldn't be surprised, but she can't help it. arranged marriages still occur up to this day, but more and more people marry out of love over it being arranged by family. to rin, she wouldn't wish for hers to be as such. she wishes for her heart to find another where their pieces would fit perfectly. she wishes for the freedom of whether she does or does not. she is, after all, born into modern society despite her more traditional upbringing in comparison to her classmates.

she reveals a pleasant smile on her face. one that isn't influenced by the alcohol that currently still runs through her system. it is because she is inebriated that she reveals more emotions than usual, that her more reserved self is currently on rest as she opens up more than she already has to her ancestor. ]

Though you've only said a few words to describe her, I can already tell you loved her very much, grandfather. [ a nod of her head. ] Grandmother Matsu sounds like a wonderful woman. It makes me wish I could have met her somehow. Do you think she would approve of me?

[ in these... newer times where he's learned that it's more customary for sons and daughters to choose for themselves whom they wish to marry, Rin's surprise is expected. But marriages among the samurai were made. Forged with a deliberation of a well-crafted blade, then used for much the same purpose—to guard against enemies. For his father, wedding Kazan to a close friend's cherished daughter served to both secure an alliance and rein in a headstrong son. And of course, to ensure the Yamaoka bloodline continued. Love had its place, but almost as an afterthought. Ornamental engravings—appreciated and admired, yet ultimately unnecessary.

He and Matsu had been far more fortunate in that regard than most. It's something he's forgotten to think about for a very long time. ]

Yes. She would have been proud of you. [ as am I, the warmth in his voice says for him. ] Your spirit is gentler than hers, but it is equally as resilient.

[ how not, after the way he abandoned her, not even turning to glance once at their home before it disappeared in the distance? ]

We were blessed with a son who had no equal, but she did wish for a daughter as well. One such as you... would have eased her heart in her old age.

[ they've had their talk long about about how he leaves his family in sought for revenge. rin still thinks it's a ridiculous, stupid move on his part — but that's something he regrets now, she knows it through the blood that's been spilt and the words exchanged the first time she cries due to her grandfather. now however, back home and alive and human again, there's no more anger in her heart at this point when it comes to kazan yamaoka.

rin could never hate her family when they prove themselves in the end, or at least try. unlike the man — she refuses to refer to him as father — they both cast out for the murder of her mother... he'll never be welcomed at their doorstep ever again.

tonight has none of the despair or anger rin had upon returning home after the countless trials that she wishes she could stop dreaming about. her soul still haunted with the fear of returning back to the entity's realm, but surely it won't happen again so long as she breathes. so long as they remain happy and content with the second chance they take when it appears.

the look on her face when kazan says how she would have been a great daughter to grandmother matsu has flowers growing on her chest. oh, how she most definitely would have loved to meet her. maybe they could have planned the gift together — ]

Ah! That reminds me... [ how could she almost forget? already rin takes out a small envelope with his name on the cover. ] I don't know if there was such a holiday back in your time, but this is for you.

[ after the letter, she moves the bag with the bottle of sake inside for him to look at. ]

And this. Happy Father's day.

[ Kazan gives her a look of curiosity when she gives him the envelope. He takes out the letter inside. An uncharacteristic silence descends upon him as he goes through each line slowly, his expression solemn. The soft scrape of the bag settling near him draws only a brief glance before he returns to reading.

When he finishes, he stays quiet, uttering no words while Rin's settle in his mind. No, it hadn't been his choice to spare the man who shattered her family—their bloodline—to pieces. When they saw him, the dark rage Kazan always carried had roused at the mere sight of that pitiful face, its roar drowning out any pleading or excuses made. It had been Rin who laid one hand on his clenched fist. Rin who held him back even as her own fingers trembled with barely restrained emotion like they had in the fog. No blood was spilled that day—but tonight, now, he's never been more aware of how right her choice was. Let the memory of that man fade into oblivion without further staining her life. Her future.

Happy Father's day. He can only hope that he's as fit to guide her as she believes.

Letting out a slow exhale, he puts the letter down and nods at Rin. ]

Thank you, Granddaughter. I am also very happy to have met you. It is good to know my— [ he pauses. ] No, my son's legacy was not tainted so much by what I did that it could not produce someone as worthy of the Yamaoka name as you.

[ he rests a hand upon her shoulder, a light and brief touch. ]

I will remain your guardian. But If you would also name father, then that is what I will be as well.

open rp post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject