[For a long moment, Mikazuki stares back. Then, he smiles. His free hand comes up, fingers threading through the white hair before cupping Tsurumaru's cheek. He moves to come closer, bumps their forehead together.

It can be hard work, making Tsurumaru come towards him. Most of the time, when one tries, the crane just dances away. The smiles and jokes give an illusion of closeness, but he is closed, guarded, cold, distant. Some people stop at that. Others know better, but they don't know how to get past the masks to the glimpses of the true heart they've seen under it.

Mikazuki Munechika is relentless, though. Maybe he has been around too long. Maybe this, at least, is something that he feels he can do for others. Espacially for the ones like Tsurumaru Kuninaga.]

Why do you keep trying to hide from me?

[Don't you know that it's useless, Tsurumaru? He has seen you without all those layers before. He knows what's inside.]

Are you scared of me?

[It wouldn't be unthinkable. Mikazuki is a congenial sword most of the time. He is genuinely nice to his fellow swords, and he does care, as Tsurumaru was quick to notice. He has spent too long in the company of men not to.

But he is also very, very old. Maybe more aware than some other of what he is. A blade, made to kill.]

It was your blood... Why is it so scary to you to see it on me? Why does it bother you so much?