Komamura lifted himself from the river. He did not shake the water from his face, although he sorely wished to. He would do nothing so base. Instead he reached for the towel offered to him. He pressed it between his eyes. “…I was born in the east,” he said, after a time. “Lord Genryuusai brought me here, when I was still--”
His friend smiled at him, hand still extended. “Small?”
“…half my height now,” Komamura concluded, gruffly.
“I could not resist. Forgive me,” Tousen tipped his head, in apology, although his smile didn’t fade. His other hand hung in his lap, brushing over the spine of the book there. His knees looked narrow the way they rose over the shorter grasses, bent. “You must have been a young man, then.”
Komamura pulled the towel over his nose. “I was not a soldier then, no. All my head was full of were my studies—ah.” He glanced over, mouth parting. Tousen’s fingers seemed to have somehow drawn closer to his face, without him knowing. “Does that surprise you?”
“No.”
“No?”
His friend looked puzzled by his mere insistence. “No. You speak very well.”
“Hm.”
“And very confidently.”
“Hm.”
“For one who is so shy,” Tousen finished, settling his palm against the side of Komamura’s face. He brushed, gently, over his eye and over his ear. “My friend,” he murmured. “You need not worry so.”
Bleach: Show Me Your Frankenstein (take 2)
Komamura lifted himself from the river. He did not shake the water from his face, although he sorely wished to. He would do nothing so base. Instead he reached for the towel offered to him. He pressed it between his eyes. “…I was born in the east,” he said, after a time. “Lord Genryuusai brought me here, when I was still--”
His friend smiled at him, hand still extended. “Small?”
“…half my height now,” Komamura concluded, gruffly.
“I could not resist. Forgive me,” Tousen tipped his head, in apology, although his smile didn’t fade. His other hand hung in his lap, brushing over the spine of the book there. His knees looked narrow the way they rose over the shorter grasses, bent. “You must have been a young man, then.”
Komamura pulled the towel over his nose. “I was not a soldier then, no. All my head was full of were my studies—ah.” He glanced over, mouth parting. Tousen’s fingers seemed to have somehow drawn closer to his face, without him knowing. “Does that surprise you?”
“No.”
“No?”
His friend looked puzzled by his mere insistence. “No. You speak very well.”
“Hm.”
“And very confidently.”
“Hm.”
“For one who is so shy,” Tousen finished, settling his palm against the side of Komamura’s face. He brushed, gently, over his eye and over his ear. “My friend,” he murmured. “You need not worry so.”