Hajime Saitou (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
path_of_sword) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2013-07-25 11:16 pm
path_of_sword) wrote in vatheon2013-07-25 11:16 pm
Entry tags:
Tomorrow It May Change
Who: Chizuru Yukimura & Hajime Saitou
When: Friday
Where: Their house in the Coral Corral
Style: Prose
Status: In Progress
The conveniences of a small dwelling place were probably all the more appreciated when the work was to be split between two in its upkeep. Such was hardly a troublesome matter when the two said residents kept things neat and clean out of habit and on a regular basis.
Granted there were still some things that took some getting used to. At least Saitou had become more accustomed to having to push doors open rather than try to slide them, for one. And then there was the matter of the kitchen, which had at first been quite the bizarre thing to explore for all its unusual hardware. It was fortunate that they hadn't accidentally burnt the place down, but both Saitou and Chizuru were probably too careful for something like that anyway.
Now that things had once again quieted down around the city, it wasn't hard to fall back into routine. Dishes need to be washed. Food needed to be put away. Sweeping, washing the windows, plenty of light chores to tend to.
In the garage, the flooring for their dojo seemed to be coming along nicely. Wooden planks covered most of the cement floor, and it would have probably even been almost finished by now had not the last curse swept through the city. Saitou had paused from his dusting to survey the work that had been done, standing at the inner doorway. The volunteers had gone off for a break, leaving the house to its usual level of quiet once again, a silence that the samurai was both thankful for and yet at times found almost grating. He wouldn't be able to deny that he missed the noise of his comrades, whether it be from sparring or for some silly matter. Once the dojo was completed, he knew even then it wouldn't be quite the same.
Sighing quietly, he began to turn away from the garage and back towards the hall.
When: Friday
Where: Their house in the Coral Corral
Style: Prose
Status: In Progress
The conveniences of a small dwelling place were probably all the more appreciated when the work was to be split between two in its upkeep. Such was hardly a troublesome matter when the two said residents kept things neat and clean out of habit and on a regular basis.
Granted there were still some things that took some getting used to. At least Saitou had become more accustomed to having to push doors open rather than try to slide them, for one. And then there was the matter of the kitchen, which had at first been quite the bizarre thing to explore for all its unusual hardware. It was fortunate that they hadn't accidentally burnt the place down, but both Saitou and Chizuru were probably too careful for something like that anyway.
Now that things had once again quieted down around the city, it wasn't hard to fall back into routine. Dishes need to be washed. Food needed to be put away. Sweeping, washing the windows, plenty of light chores to tend to.
In the garage, the flooring for their dojo seemed to be coming along nicely. Wooden planks covered most of the cement floor, and it would have probably even been almost finished by now had not the last curse swept through the city. Saitou had paused from his dusting to survey the work that had been done, standing at the inner doorway. The volunteers had gone off for a break, leaving the house to its usual level of quiet once again, a silence that the samurai was both thankful for and yet at times found almost grating. He wouldn't be able to deny that he missed the noise of his comrades, whether it be from sparring or for some silly matter. Once the dojo was completed, he knew even then it wouldn't be quite the same.
Sighing quietly, he began to turn away from the garage and back towards the hall.