Mitsuhide startled, of course, whirling around to face the direction the sound came from almost immediately. His hand was not only on his blade by the time his gaze settled upon Motochika, but he had partially drawn the well-crafted katana from its sheath.
It soon clattered back into said sheath when the samurai realised who stood before him.
"Lord... Motochika?"
The serious frown he'd born changed into something shocked, uncertain; Mitsuhide straightened up and pulled away the mask from his face, gaze running over Motochika's form like he expected it to simply vanish into thin air.
The last time he had seen the Hero of Tosa had been after the Battle of Yamazaki, and in that moment Mitsuhide had been able to do naught but watch his dearest friend die. Something in him had broken in that moment, the sheer power of his grief (combined with everything that had come before) leaving him unable to continue fighting. Now, of course, he'd had to take up his blade again for the sake of survival, and to protect those who could not fight, but that grief had definitely not disappeared...
...and despite knowing that many who should be dead were now alive again, walking and talking and smiling like they'd never perished at all, Mitsuhide had not even considered the possibility that Motochika might be amongst the revived.
It was too much to hope for, and with that, a selfish wish as well.
"Lord Motochika..." Mitsuhide repeated, taking a few steps forward as he spoke. His voice was cracked, and heavy with feeling. Was this really happening?
no subject
It soon clattered back into said sheath when the samurai realised who stood before him.
"Lord... Motochika?"
The serious frown he'd born changed into something shocked, uncertain; Mitsuhide straightened up and pulled away the mask from his face, gaze running over Motochika's form like he expected it to simply vanish into thin air.
The last time he had seen the Hero of Tosa had been after the Battle of Yamazaki, and in that moment Mitsuhide had been able to do naught but watch his dearest friend die. Something in him had broken in that moment, the sheer power of his grief (combined with everything that had come before) leaving him unable to continue fighting. Now, of course, he'd had to take up his blade again for the sake of survival, and to protect those who could not fight, but that grief had definitely not disappeared...
...and despite knowing that many who should be dead were now alive again, walking and talking and smiling like they'd never perished at all, Mitsuhide had not even considered the possibility that Motochika might be amongst the revived.
It was too much to hope for, and with that, a selfish wish as well.
"Lord Motochika..." Mitsuhide repeated, taking a few steps forward as he spoke. His voice was cracked, and heavy with feeling. Was this really happening?