Title: Chrysalis
Disclaimer: Touken Ranbu (c) DMM Games/Nitroplus

Author: Chesiere Cat aka Hiyuura (xnightrainx)
Special thanks: itakoaya (beta), silverhairedsamurai (inspiration), zukizaki (info on the 'Choumaru' concept)

Pairing: Mikazuki Munechika x Tsurumaru Kuninaga
Rating: T (rating may go up - in response to FFN's policies, explicit contents will be cut and provided an external link)
Warning: BL, angst, blood and gore

Summary: "Sometimes I do wonder whether you are a crane or a butterfly." Tsurumaru keeps on having the same dream, one that concerned Mikazuki. What he doesn't know is there're more meanings behind that sentence, and stories that are yet to be told.

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Lately, he had been dreaming more and more often of those days long past. In that world of sweet childhood where innocence knew no sorrow, vibrant colours displayed themselves before him in the form of butterflies. He had always found their dance fascinating.

In that world of seemingly eternal spring, his younger self chased and danced with those creatures, long sleeves whirling as if he too possessed gilded wings of white and gold.

"My dear Tsuru, you look like a butterfly."

How a youth reached out to the world as if nothing were ephemeral.

In that beautiful, beautiful garden, he flashed the owner of that gentle voice his most brilliant smile. The past shone bright like the glare of the midday sun… All too bright he always woke up tasting the salt of longing tears.

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Golden rays flooded through translucent paper screens, projecting panels of light on the futon and the nearby tatami floor. "…" Instinctively, his arm reached out as if to touch the ghost of his past that bright dream possibly left lingered. However, he caught instead mere warmth of the new morning which spread quickly through his human flesh; from the very tips of his fingers to his then balled fist, up his arm to his shoulder, and eventually all over his awoken body.

This human form, these senses, this taste of saltiness… They all brought him back to what everyone here conveniently called 'the present'. For 'present' though it was, this palace, in fact, stood here in every space and time, transcending the chronological rules with its own terms and conditions.

The modern device he remembered as a digital clock read: 7:02.

"…These dreams are so frequent they aren't surprising anymore." The Crane Sword murmured before wiping the wetness from his face.

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Chrysalis
Chapter I

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The echo of the Jinkai trumpet broke the silence. Its deep tones reverberated across Mount Atsukashi, sending waves of alarm among every soul who heard it. The feeling of unease spread rapidly like a plague, which soon caught on to the tied up horses. Nostrils flaring in their attempt to take flight, the animals neighed loudly. All jerked and snapped at the ropes in frenzy as if they lives depended on this escape. As if to mirror this madness, the sound of heavy hooves trampling the ground could be heard thundering from afar, speeding faster and faster every passing moment.

"Oiiii! Easy! You!" Iwatooshi's voice boomed amidst the confusion. Large hand pulled at the reins to stop the horses. They kept on fighting for minutes that seemed longer than hours. Yet, against the monstrous strength of the legendary Naginata, the struggle didn't last. Eventually, the thrashing died down, the exhausted animals becoming still as if having resigned to their awaiting fate.

"That sound…" Ichigo spoke up, a frown marring his feature as he moved over to help soothe their battle horses.

"A Jinkai trumpet in this era? This is indeed surprising." It was Tsurumaru, though, who voiced his concern. "I didn't know those phantom swords had it in them the appreciation of music." For their enemies, to their best knowledge, possessed no sense of their previous selves. These phantom swords were resurrected just for the sake of following their master's orders, responding to his or her every whim with only their fighting instinct intact. A pitiful existence. A shell without one's own desire.

Despite his carefree tone, it was obvious the atmosphere was tense. With so many unspoken questions hanging in the air, one bubble was burst by the soft-spoken Kousetsu.

"Ima no Tsurugi has taken long."

It had been hours since Ima no Tsurugi left for scouting duty. Yet, even now that the opposed army had begun its march, they had yet to hear a word from the said Tantou.

A grim look was passed from one to another. However, none found it in them to believe Ima no Tsurugi had fallen.

"…We should get ourselves ready." Ichigo reminded them of their current situation. With historical precision, the troop of Minamoto no Yoritomo wouldn't be there until the next couple of days. Their original plan was to wait for the phantom troop to appear then rout them out, if not completely destroy them, before Yoritomo arrived. However, with the sudden deployment of the phantom troop, he wondered if a deviation had already occurred.

Whatever the cause of this deviation was, one thing was certain:

Battle was impending.

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They formed a fish scale formation with Iwatooshi as the centre, each sporting different expression as they rode through the thickets toward the treeless scape of man-made moats and earthworks known in later days as the Atsukashiyama Bulwark: The battle-hungry Iwatooshi at the front; the slightly amused Tsurumaru and the frowning Kousetsu at the flanks; and the concerned Ichigo and the expressionless Uguisumaru at the rear. No sooner had they neared the edge of the forest than another presence was felt.

Without a word, they all slowed down to mere jogs.

Silent as a snake following its preys, the twisted shadow slithered. Having hidden itself ever-so-deliberately behind the canopies of leaves, the phantom Tantou waited for the right moment to strike. It wouldn't do if its preys had left for an open land. Eyes burning with malicious flame from the abyss, it finally chose its target with the most chance to succeed.

Dashing forward with great speed, its long, skeletal form glinting white in the sun, the phantom Tantou brought its blade down upon the slowest enemy's neck.

A crazed smile appeared upon Iwatooshi's lips. Gigantic hand tightened its grip on the Naginata's handle, ready to slash the daring insect apart. Yet…

"Wait!" Uguisumaru's shout halted the Naginata's fatal swing as another shape sprang after the phantom. Swift as a Tengu, the little form jumped down, swinging his blade before taking precisely the seat behind Iwatooshi on the horseback. The vile skeleton froze mid-air before the abyssal flame died from its eyes. Its distorted form soon shattered into millions of pieces.

"Ehehehe! How was that?" Ima no Tsurugi flashed the giant a big smile.

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The reappearance of the Tantou brought upon the group a relief as well as disturbing news.

"I didn't mean to be delayed. As you've seen, my playmate was very good at hiding." The little Tengu said, his usual playfulness dimmed with sincerity. "Ichigo-dono was right. Yoritomo… Yoritomo-sama hasn't arrived yet. I think they were on stand by before they started acting strange. Very~ strange."

"Strange?"

"Yes. I didn't know those guys could get scared. But they did! I didn't know what exactly happened, but looked like someone sounded an alarm, then they were running." He nodded to himself as he recalled the thing he had seen. "Yes. It seemed more like they were running away from something…"

"Running, huh?" Tsurumaru raised an eyebrow. He couldn't fathom what was able to scare the so-called troop from hell into fleeing. If that thing actually existed, then it must be a real demon - even a god. "Haha. This is like a revelation to a greater stage. Now I wonder what kind of surprise I will find after this."

"It could be a trap." Uguisumaru pointed out.

"Ah. But if you don't venture into the tiger's den, you won't capture any cubs," quipped Tsurumaru, looking more and more like he was enjoying himself, "With our mission, we're to clash with them anyway. Why pulling back now?"

Truth be told, with the speed the enemy was moving, they'd be overrun first before they left Mount Atsukashi.

Kousetsu sighed.

"…Let's hope we could finish this before nightfall." Ichigo concluded, closing his eyes. Around them, the earth crackled; it sounded like the end of the world as the demonic troop approached.

"Very well! I'll hunt the enemy one after another!" Iwatooshi laughed. "Come! Let's go out to hunt at once!"

"It's unbecoming to think people more stupid than Ookanehira actually exist…" Uguisumaru muttered.

And together, they advanced.

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Soldiers materialised from the enchanted marbles, the two armies clashed like peals of thunder and flashes of lightning. Amidst the storm of swords came occasionally arrows and bullets. The phantom army was apparently in a hurry to finish the game. And yet, the battle dragged on. The sun was setting at the far horizon, bathing everything in ruddy light. Tsurumaru's kimono too was battle-dyed; pure white fabric stained by blood of the enemies as well as his own bleeding wounds.

"My, I didn't expect to get this unshapely even if it makes me look like a crane." Silvery locks damp from blood and perspiration, he extracted his blade from the enemy's corpse. Cooling breeze blessed his heated skin, he let himself savour the sweet air of victory.

Even if such sweetness was as brief as one childhood's spring compared to a thousand-year lifetime.

Like a moth to a flame, he found himself drawn to that past…

In that last light of the sun, the battlefield shone with a blaze.

Even if that past scorched him until tears stung his eyes.

Only when he shifted his gaze away from the light, though, did he see a butterfly.

A butterfly? He blinked, squinting at the creature to make sure it was actually a butterfly instead of a moth.

Like a moth flying straight into that flame…

"Mikazuki-sama, Mikazuki-sama…"

Somehow he started hearing his younger self sob.

"Why are you crying, Tsurumaru?"

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Golden eyes widened at the resurfacing of that memory. All too sudden as if that illusion - if it was really an illusion - of a spring butterfly held all the secrets needed to unlock that hidden chest.

"Why are you crying, Tsurumaru?" The elder sword asked, looking at him with gentle eyes.

He remembered shedding tears even though he wouldn't feel their wetness.

"Those cocoons, why don't they hatch?" He sobbed, pointing at the three cocoons hanging lifelessly on a certain tree's branch. "I heard the human children say they already died."

"Tsuru…" The elder's arms wrapped around him, and despite their lack of tangible bodies, it did feel like warmth had spread from such act to his soul. "There's no need to cry."

Together, they walked into that garden; his little hands still clinging to the elder one's robe.

Funny how these memories came flooding back in this most unlikely time and place. Even as he had already lost sight of that particular 'butterfly'. Instead, there towered before him one opponent on a black, black horse, tattered cloak billowing in the crooning breeze. What was odd about this phantom, though, was that, unlike those deformed swords, it seemed more like his kind, except for its eyes which were cold and red like crystal pools of blood. The clothes under that cloak reminded him of a Yamabushi warrior monk, just like the ones Yamabushi Kunihiro wore.

"I see. You must have been the one who sounded the Jinkai."

The phantom warrior didn't reply, only gazing at him before turning away on its horse.

"…A challenge, huh? What a surprise." The Crane Sword smirked. Spotting the phantom warrior's cavalry troop coming, he hurled himself at one of them, intending to steal the horse.

"My dear Tsuru, do you know what are inside these cocoons?"

"Umm…butterflies?"

"Yes. These butterflies are sleeping. They chose to sleep inside these shells as these shells protect them from the harsh world."

The memories kept coming even as he chased after the warrior with a stolen horse. Jumping over a cluster of black shieldmen, he let out a laugh. The surprises, the excitement from the battlefield… They had, admittedly, become the medicine to salve his past. And yet, with these older, happier memories returning…

"So…the butterflies are…safe?"

Like a curse of those recurring dreams…

"Ah. Don't you think it's better for them to be protected in there instead of letting them fly out and be lost forever?"

He wondered if he too secretly yearned for the past to be altered.

"…I-I see. Mikazuki-sama…"

"Yes, Tsurumaru?"

So that he could relive forever that beloved spring.

"I love you, Mikazuki-sama."

"…This is getting troubling." He muttered to himself as he hacked through another throng of infantries, still following his challenger.

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The more the battle dragged on, the more it became clear how much haste the enemies were in. With the way the phantom swords prioritised leaving the place, it became easier for them to get eliminated.

Ichigo struck down the enemy Tachi. His opponent's screech pierced through the twilight. Stepping back so he was back-to-back with Uguisumaru, he took a guarding stance.

"Tired already?" The tea lover asked, brandishing his sword to ward off the surrounding troop.

"…I'd be lying if I said I wasn't." The younger sword's reply came with a puff of breath. Despite his still calm demeanour, fatigue was starting to wear him down. "At least, a decent fight is preferred to facing starvation tactics."

"…This battle is already horrible without tea."

Ichigo couldn't help a little smile at the other's comment. Cutting down a few attacking infantries, he let his gaze roam the battlefield to evaluate the entire situation.

"It'd be better if we—"

A high-pitched neigh from the other side of the battlefield snatched their attention. Across the very ground where Minamoto no Yoritomo would lead his army to the Battle of Oshu, two silhouettes were engaged in a game of chase. In the dim light, one was as black as night's shadow while the other, though stained partly red, the whiteness still reminded the beholders of freshly fallen snow.

Following the neigh, the otherworldly sound of the Jinkai again resonated throughout the place. Its strange melodies caused a swift change in the movement of the phantom soldiers.

"Get him, Tsurumaru!" Iwatooshi shouted from the other corner of the field. He and Ima no Tsurugi too were taking on the demonic swarm.

"NO!"

Ichigo interrupted with a hoarse cry. He could see what the enemies were doing with their formation.

"Stop Tsurumaru-san! That guy's leading him to the centre!"

"What!?" The Naginata turned, but he and Ima no Tsurugi were too far. "Damn!"

In response to the dreadful news, Kousetsu whirled around on his horse. Being the closest one, the peace-loving Samonji gathered his remaining soldiers and rode after the two other horses. Sharp metal flashed its deadly shine and one after another, the enemies were cut down. Ichigo and Uguisumaru exchanged a look before they too started hacking their way to help their friends.

As fast as possible, they kept on moving. And yet, the swarm of phantom troop seemed never-ending. Rains of arrows were unleashed from the bowstrings, clouding the dark sky. And from where they were, they could see how Tsurumaru's horse fell.

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His friend's warning didn't go unheard. However, he was too deep into the game it became too late to back out. The Crane Sword brushed damp bangs away from his eyes. Old and new wounds started to hurt more than just stings. Fresh blood dripped to the ground, droplets after droplets. Their coppery smell filled the air about him, and he almost gagged at the reemerged memories of his dead masters.

Breaking the end of the arrow stuck to his arm, he noticed a crack that shouldn't appear on a human's skin. A signal that the end was nigh.

How he must now resemble a moth, flying straight into the flame with no restriction.

"Sometimes I do wonder whether you are a crane or a butterfly."

The voice from his past still haunted him, and he wondered, half-amused, if Mikazuki Munechika would approve he acted akin to a moth rather than a butterfly.

Ah, there it is, that 'butterfly' I saw earlier…

"Well, this isn't too bad." He let out a chuckle, raising one more time his magnificent sword. The Yamabushi warrior at least honoured his end by getting off the horse, permitting him the last one-on-one battle.

"My dear Tsuru, do you know what are inside these cocoons?"

"Umm…butterflies?"

Those memories replayed themselves again as the Crane danced the fatal duet. Block. Cut. Parry. Slash. Thrust. Bleeding. His kimono soaked red like the blood of those masters he had before lost.

With my kimono dyed completely red like this, it doesn't matter if I resemble a crane or a butterfly…

A crane that brought instead destruction and ill fortune. A butterfly that danced as if having nothing to lose.

What was inside the cocoon?

The phantom warrior sword came down. The crack already spreading all over his skin, which seemed to lose its human-like colour, fading instead into the dull tone of chipping metal. Tsurumaru Kuninaga faced that finishing blow with a smile.

A moth flying straight into the fire.

"Don't you think it's better for them to be protected in there instead of letting them fly out and be lost forever?"

A howl of agony echoed loud as if it alone could crumble the sky. And yet, no sky was crumbled as the Yamabushi warrior was sliced into halves.

A cut so clean that not even a killing intention could be felt.

The Crane Sword looked up. The waxing moon illuminated his greatest surprise.

There, before him, stood Mikazuki Munechika, that famed crescent blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"It's been a long time, Tsurumaru Kuninaga."

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To Be Continued…

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Footnotes:

1. During the Battle of Oshu in 1189, Fujiwara no Yasuhira, the ruler of Oshu Hiraizumi, built a huge fortification comprising about 4 km of moats and earthworks from the mid-slopes of Mt. Atsukashi to the Abukuma River in order to intercept the troops led by Minamoto no Yoritomo, the shogun of the Kamakura Shogunate. This fortification is now designated as a national historic site named 'Atsukashiyama Bulwark,' commonly known as Futaebori which means the double moats. This site is known as one of the three major rare bulwarks in Japan along with Genko Bulwark in Fukuoka City and Mizuki Bulwark in Dazaifu City.

2. Horagai or Jinkai are large conch shells used as trumpets in Japan for many centuries. They are especially associated with the Yamabushi, ascetic warrior monks of the Shugendo sect. In war, Jinkai (war shell), was one of the several signal devices used by the samurai. It would be blown with a different combination of "notes" to signal troops to attack, withdraw, or change strategies. The trumpeter was called a kai yaku. During the Sengoku period, the feudal lords enlisted the Yamabushi to serve as their kai yaku due to their experience with the instrument.