A swordsman having a favorite sword and it their pride and joy. It's basically a part of them, they can't even think about replacing it. It's them, it's a part of them, a part of their soul. They're insulted if you even try to touch their sword because it's them
And the swordsmith. The poor swordsmith. They've made blades for as long as they could lift a hammer. It's their lifeblood. Whenever someone asks what their most prized sword, they smile longingly and reply that they don't have it in their shop but they're sure everyone had saw it.
They always think of the swordsman and their prized sword. The blade forged from an act of love, a piece of the swordsmith's heart was forged into the metal. So many sleepless nights were spent to ensure the blade was beyond perfect.
And it was. It was beautiful. It was a confession. A confession unspoken. A confession unheard. Yet, as the swordsman wins another battle with the blade forged from the swordsmith's very heart, he looks longingly at the warrior. Their love keeps the swordsman safe, and that makes them happy.
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Ok so I was able to make Hotori a mini look book. the fits aren't casual but you know what? Neither are they.
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Remember: this is for fun. Don't take it too seriously! Just pick your favorite between the two choices.
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