A poor farmer in the middle of what used to be Rice Country stopped in the middle of swinging his hoe down, looking up to the sky, an immense feeling of sadness washing over him, and he couldn't place why.
A dozen children in the academies of Doushikai all began to act out in class, throwing fits, missing something and not emotionally intelligent enough to express what, or why.
A young woman in Kirigakure no Sato felt her heart rip in two in the middle of her training session, dropping her spear and dropping tears from her eyes at the same time. Her training partner, an older woman, looked down at her with an air of confusion as she clutched her chest. "Are you alright?" She asked, still more confused than concerned. "He's gone..." Her younger partner said, holding back a sob as best she could. "He's... Dead..." The older woman's confusion remained for a moment, before a look of realization came over her face. "Probably for the best." She said, coldly.
A thousand samurai hung their heads, feeling it on their honor that Bushido itself had suddenly taken a blow.
An entire country wept openly.
One man smiled.
Goro and Oban stared out across the ocean at the massive, strangely constructed ship that had shown up only an hour before as it retreated back across the ocean. Both were silent and forlorn as several of their own fishing boats trawled the waters, looking for something other than fish, hoping beyond all hope that what they pulled out might still be alive. But Goro and Oban knew. As soon as that fist closed, they felt his life wink out in an instant in a way that only those closest to him could feel, no matter how far away they'd been at the time. Neither of them had the tears in them, despite being among the harshest affected by the events.
"There once was a Frog..." Goro said out loud, blowing a puff of smoke out, and sighing, as if there was more to the story, but he knew the story was over, and that was dangerous. "Who let his Heart lead the way." Oban finished for him, clenching her fists, unable to look at the smoker next to her. "That's a big path he's lead, a deep trench to follow in." The gruff voiced man said thoughtfully. Oban replied "Someone has to, though. His work wasn't done. My work isn't done. Our work isn't done."
They both knew it was true, but there weren't exactly a lot of people that could even glance at the path that had been laid out, and even fewer that could take the first few steps. Both of them turned away from the water and back to Xincha proper, the town was too quiet for this time of evening, and it left both of them feeling hollow, but beyond the town, on the far side, were the academies. Another puff of smoke. "He has successors. He's made himself a martyr, the fool. The next Grand Shogun will be even more of a monster because of it."
"That's not what he would have wanted."
"No, he'd be pretty mad at himself right about now."
Goro Saves The World
Goro Saves The World
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
Ninja Info CardsShow
 | Suzuko Just another girl |
Goro Saves The World
A man in a black suit enters a building whose design is reminiscent of a Torii gate, only the gate and a small passageway aboveground, the rest leading directly belowground in the style of buildings common in old Shark Country. A left turn, a right turn, a long straight through dimly lit halls and into a dimly lit room where a single older man rests on both knees in a black Haori, long Katana placed next to him. He does not acknowledge the man in the suit's existence, eyes closed with a perpetual frown on his face, still as a statue.
"He's dead." Said the man in the suit.
"We know." Replied the statue, eyes not yet open.
"His soul..."
"We know." The statue repeated. "Goro, your assignment is complete. Please, write down everything in your next report. Did he have any last words?"
"Defiance, strength. 'The people damn you and your gods.', to the intruder."
The elder in the black Haori did not reply, and Goro had to fight the urge to light up another cigarette while waiting. "Defying gods always was the job of the people, wasn't it?" He mused after a long period of silence. "We must find his soul. All resources will go towards that, for now. Then, an heir... You will help locate some of them, when the time is right. For now, you're just another member of the military. Your objective is complete, for now."
Goro couldn't resist, and finally brought up the cigarette to his mouth, mumbling around it to speak with his mouth full. "The Empire wasn't ready." He said plainly.
"There was never going to be a right time for a god to die, and yet..." Goro turned around, and lit the cigarette, starting to walk back up the way he came. "I'll be waiting for my orders, father. I'll see what good I can do in the meantime."
A long straight, a right turn, a left turn, up the stairs, and out the torii gate. The town had gone quiet, in mourning. He'd only just died hours before, and samurai had advised people to stay inside until it could be confirmed that the mysterious iron ships that had come to Tea Country could be confirmed as gone. Goro took a deep inhale of his cigarette, and blew a puff of smoke up into the sky, pink petals of Fuhen's chakra still gently floating down from the sky. His death hadn't been officially announced, yet, and many weren't aware why the blossoms rained down from the sky as such. Those who knew him well enough, that he'd touched deeply, already knew in their heart of hearts.
The pieces of his warrior spirit that he'd left in them to give them strength in their darkest hours had been ripped out. For many of them, that was all they'd needed, a spark of hope in a dark time, for others, it was likely all that was keeping them going. For Goro, it was like he'd lost his only real friend in the world more than anything. For the first time since the event, he let a tear fall, biting down on his cigarette so hard that it crumbled and fell to the ground, leaving only unburnt tobacco in his mouth.
He was reminded of the song Fuhen was singing when the two first met during the war. He wasn't much for singing, but as a petal of the pink energy landed atop his head, he felt the irresistable urge, and half sang, half said some of the lyrics.
"There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword, he will tear your city down..."
"He's dead." Said the man in the suit.
"We know." Replied the statue, eyes not yet open.
"His soul..."
"We know." The statue repeated. "Goro, your assignment is complete. Please, write down everything in your next report. Did he have any last words?"
"Defiance, strength. 'The people damn you and your gods.', to the intruder."
The elder in the black Haori did not reply, and Goro had to fight the urge to light up another cigarette while waiting. "Defying gods always was the job of the people, wasn't it?" He mused after a long period of silence. "We must find his soul. All resources will go towards that, for now. Then, an heir... You will help locate some of them, when the time is right. For now, you're just another member of the military. Your objective is complete, for now."
Goro couldn't resist, and finally brought up the cigarette to his mouth, mumbling around it to speak with his mouth full. "The Empire wasn't ready." He said plainly.
"There was never going to be a right time for a god to die, and yet..." Goro turned around, and lit the cigarette, starting to walk back up the way he came. "I'll be waiting for my orders, father. I'll see what good I can do in the meantime."
A long straight, a right turn, a left turn, up the stairs, and out the torii gate. The town had gone quiet, in mourning. He'd only just died hours before, and samurai had advised people to stay inside until it could be confirmed that the mysterious iron ships that had come to Tea Country could be confirmed as gone. Goro took a deep inhale of his cigarette, and blew a puff of smoke up into the sky, pink petals of Fuhen's chakra still gently floating down from the sky. His death hadn't been officially announced, yet, and many weren't aware why the blossoms rained down from the sky as such. Those who knew him well enough, that he'd touched deeply, already knew in their heart of hearts.
The pieces of his warrior spirit that he'd left in them to give them strength in their darkest hours had been ripped out. For many of them, that was all they'd needed, a spark of hope in a dark time, for others, it was likely all that was keeping them going. For Goro, it was like he'd lost his only real friend in the world more than anything. For the first time since the event, he let a tear fall, biting down on his cigarette so hard that it crumbled and fell to the ground, leaving only unburnt tobacco in his mouth.
He was reminded of the song Fuhen was singing when the two first met during the war. He wasn't much for singing, but as a petal of the pink energy landed atop his head, he felt the irresistable urge, and half sang, half said some of the lyrics.
"There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword, he will tear your city down..."
Last edited by Nick on Sat Jan 27, 2024 9:52 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
Ninja Info CardsShow
| Suzuko Just another girl |
Goro Saves The World
The black-suited man's duties would only multiply over the weeks to come, and yet his most important duties to the empire were that of handling its internal affairs, and that meant making sure the right people were in the right places. Since the day of Fuhen's death, people had been scrambling to fill in the shoes of a man whose mere presence motivated people to work harder and be happy to do so. It was an impossible task, but one that needed doing anyway. Some important people were harder than ever to track down, off doing their own things. He hadn't seen Oban since the day of his death. She'd locked herself away into her workshop, the widow of the Shogun, or as close to one as it could get.
Goro felt strongly for Oban, and would have to make time to visit her before too long. There was realistically nothing he could do, and the two weren't exactly friends, but they had one important thing in common that they could say they shared some kind of bond over. Today was not that day, however. There was another man that the empire needed more than ever since the death of the Grand Shogun, and he hadn't been seen by anybody since the day of the event either.
Matsumatsu, Sen was not a warrior. He wore a samurai's badge around his neck and over his heart because Fuhen had told him he deserved it, that his job was important, that he mattered, that his belief in the dream of the Heart Empire was as powerful as the Shogun's blades. But he was not a warrior. In some ways, his will was stronger than others, but a strong willpower did not matter when it came to a broken Heart. He sat with folded legs in his small apartment, his bright yellow robes having been worn for several days straight had stains that he hadn't bothered to clean up and while they once shined like the sun, now they were muted, like staring up at the sun through murky waters.
He was staring at a wall, half-lidded eyes nearly vacant, and only upon very close inspection would they be able to tell he was anything more than a corpse. His mind, however, the most important part of it all, was even more empty than his eyes. Not in the peaceful way of buddhist monks, but like a man whose synapses and emotions were so burned out that all that remained was a charred field, salted and ruined. It would take a skilled farmer years and years to till the soil once more and make it useful for anything again.
A knock at the door. Three raps, firm, casual, unevenly spaced. There was no recognition in those eyes that stared at the wall. A long silence. Three more raps. Nothing. Not a twitch, not a sigh. Unceremoniously, the door was kicked open, and there stood Goro, framed in the dark of the apartment by the first ray of sunlight to enter it in multiple days through the broken door. He didn't see the lump that used to be known as Sen right away, and merely rankled his nose at the stench that flooded into the fresh air. It smelled like a corpse. Then he saw the lump.
Almost immediately, he rushed forwards, putting his hands on the would-be shoulders of the lump from behind, shaking and putting two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse. Whatever thoughts raced through his mind seemed to be alleviated as he felt the lump had some kind of signs of life. Still no signs of recognition in those eyes. "Sen. Sen!" Goro called his name, shaking him some more, giving him several light slaps on his cheek. The lights seemed to turn on, the sun rising up over the field, but it was dim. "Damnit, man, what did you do to yourself?" He asked, incredulously.
"He's gone..." He said, weakly, the voice like stepping on earth that had not seen rain in months.
"He is." Goro confirmed. He didn't know what to say to the man. Goro was a people person, in some ways, and he had empathy for what Sen was going through, but he didn't have the words to magically make things better like Fuhen might have. "But you can't sit here until you become fertilizer."
"He's gone..." The man in yellow repeated, as if it was the only thing he was capable of saying. Goro let out an annoyed sigh and reached into his jacket, pulling out a cigarette and shoving it in his mouth. He let go of Sen, who seemed to slouch fully to the ground as if he didn't have the strength to hold himself up, and as suddenly as he'd arrived, Goro was gone.
Sen was left in darkness again, only light from the wide open door seeping in, barely stretching across his flesh, but the field was still useless. Footsteps went. The outside world was so much louder with the door crashed open as it was, and it made it harder to sit in nothingness. It had been enough time that the people of the Empire were returning to their normal lives as best they could. Many footsteps. The sounds of carts. Steam being released from the mechanical contraptions of the empire... And the footsteps grew louder.
Suddenly, the fields were flooded. Impossibly cold water rushed over his hair and flesh, and he sucked in a deep breath all at once, the shock from the icy cold splash caused him to inhale some of it both through his mouth and his nostrils, and he flailed on the ground, first onto his face, but unable to find air there thanks to the thin layer of water, flopped onto his back like a fish, staring up at Goro, lit cigarette in mouth, empty bucket in his hands. They stared at eachother for several seconds, and while Sen had a little bit of liquid in him now, and the lights were at least partially on, Goro scowled. The field was still full of stones.
He threw the bucket across the room, smashing into several delicate pieces with lots of breaking and smashing sounds, and he leaned down to lift up the man from under his armpits. He was light, thin, his family had been known for this before they'd been wiped out, and ostracized for it, but still, as Fuhen had often said, when the ground goes without rain, it hardens. The fruits born from his family had become useful for a reason. "He's gone." Goro said, shaking the man, as if he hadn't fully understood it, and he started to drag him towards the broken door. "He is gone, but this is not." The man said, Holding him over the balcony of his apartment, causing him to flail uncomfortably in the sudden shock of sunlight and noise.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Sen cried, struggling in the grasp of the man, terrified of being held so high up like this, but slowly that allowed water to seep into the cracked earth. "Look, damn you! Look!" Goro commanded, and finally Sen stopped squirming long enough to open his eyes, barely able to squint open against the harsh rays of the sun. A deep sigh left his body as some kind of understanding started to fill his body. "You can be useless when you retire, but thanks to that stupid fucking Shogun..." He said, roughly pulling Sen back over the railing and pushing him against it on the ground. "We do not have the time to wallow. Drink." Goro flicked his bandages out, grabbing a cup of water that had likely sat stagnant in the man's apartment since the day Fuhen died, and shoved it into the man's face.
"I..." He started, only to be interrupted.
"Drink." He commanded again, putting a finger on the bottom of the glass to slowly shove it up towards the diplomat's mouth. He did as he was bid, taking a sip, and as he did so the finger on the bottom of the cup shot into Sen's disgustingly dirty robes, and ripped out the wooden talisman that marked Sen as a samurai of the empire. "That's..." He started to object, and Goro shoved it in his face. "What does this mean?" He interrupted once more, now finally waiting for Sen to reply properly. "That... Iiyashi-san trusted me enough to call me a samurai..." The yellow-robed man replied. Goro smirked. The stones were coming up. The field was being tilled.
"He's gone. But this is not. Stand up." He grabbed Sen by the hem of his robes and hoisted him to his feet, leaning him against the railing where he could see the empire laid bare before him. "The petals stopped falling yesterday." Goro said, sounding a bit sad at the prospect. "But the petals touched down on the empire for a reason, Sen. He's not here to make his dream happen any more. If you want, you can mope around for the rest of your life, or you can do something to make him proud, make him smile down at you. You know he's gonna come back and kick your ass if you don't." Sen stared, his eyes open fully now, and he took another sip of the water, before making a gagging noise. Some kind of bug had crawled into it and died, he dumped the water out over the railing, and stepped back inside of his own volition, his steps shaky.
"I... understand... I'm just not..."
"Two days. Back at the palace. Fresh robes. Take a damn bath, too." There was a long pause, and Sen nodded. Goro sucked in the last of his cigarette, before flicking it over the balcony, and slamming the door shut. It was broken, and so rattled on its hinges. He took the long walk down the stairs as he lit another one, and smiled as he heard something coming from the apartment, faint, but there.
"There will come a poet... whose weapon is his word... He will slay you with his tongue..."
He stopped at a local street food vendor, giving him a small bag full of coins, pointing towards the broken door, and making sure that the next couple of days worth of meals were taken care of. The seeds were planted. They'd have to grow in their own time, but a calloused hand at least put them there to help.
Goro felt strongly for Oban, and would have to make time to visit her before too long. There was realistically nothing he could do, and the two weren't exactly friends, but they had one important thing in common that they could say they shared some kind of bond over. Today was not that day, however. There was another man that the empire needed more than ever since the death of the Grand Shogun, and he hadn't been seen by anybody since the day of the event either.
Matsumatsu, Sen was not a warrior. He wore a samurai's badge around his neck and over his heart because Fuhen had told him he deserved it, that his job was important, that he mattered, that his belief in the dream of the Heart Empire was as powerful as the Shogun's blades. But he was not a warrior. In some ways, his will was stronger than others, but a strong willpower did not matter when it came to a broken Heart. He sat with folded legs in his small apartment, his bright yellow robes having been worn for several days straight had stains that he hadn't bothered to clean up and while they once shined like the sun, now they were muted, like staring up at the sun through murky waters.
He was staring at a wall, half-lidded eyes nearly vacant, and only upon very close inspection would they be able to tell he was anything more than a corpse. His mind, however, the most important part of it all, was even more empty than his eyes. Not in the peaceful way of buddhist monks, but like a man whose synapses and emotions were so burned out that all that remained was a charred field, salted and ruined. It would take a skilled farmer years and years to till the soil once more and make it useful for anything again.
A knock at the door. Three raps, firm, casual, unevenly spaced. There was no recognition in those eyes that stared at the wall. A long silence. Three more raps. Nothing. Not a twitch, not a sigh. Unceremoniously, the door was kicked open, and there stood Goro, framed in the dark of the apartment by the first ray of sunlight to enter it in multiple days through the broken door. He didn't see the lump that used to be known as Sen right away, and merely rankled his nose at the stench that flooded into the fresh air. It smelled like a corpse. Then he saw the lump.
Almost immediately, he rushed forwards, putting his hands on the would-be shoulders of the lump from behind, shaking and putting two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse. Whatever thoughts raced through his mind seemed to be alleviated as he felt the lump had some kind of signs of life. Still no signs of recognition in those eyes. "Sen. Sen!" Goro called his name, shaking him some more, giving him several light slaps on his cheek. The lights seemed to turn on, the sun rising up over the field, but it was dim. "Damnit, man, what did you do to yourself?" He asked, incredulously.
"He's gone..." He said, weakly, the voice like stepping on earth that had not seen rain in months.
"He is." Goro confirmed. He didn't know what to say to the man. Goro was a people person, in some ways, and he had empathy for what Sen was going through, but he didn't have the words to magically make things better like Fuhen might have. "But you can't sit here until you become fertilizer."
"He's gone..." The man in yellow repeated, as if it was the only thing he was capable of saying. Goro let out an annoyed sigh and reached into his jacket, pulling out a cigarette and shoving it in his mouth. He let go of Sen, who seemed to slouch fully to the ground as if he didn't have the strength to hold himself up, and as suddenly as he'd arrived, Goro was gone.
Sen was left in darkness again, only light from the wide open door seeping in, barely stretching across his flesh, but the field was still useless. Footsteps went. The outside world was so much louder with the door crashed open as it was, and it made it harder to sit in nothingness. It had been enough time that the people of the Empire were returning to their normal lives as best they could. Many footsteps. The sounds of carts. Steam being released from the mechanical contraptions of the empire... And the footsteps grew louder.
Suddenly, the fields were flooded. Impossibly cold water rushed over his hair and flesh, and he sucked in a deep breath all at once, the shock from the icy cold splash caused him to inhale some of it both through his mouth and his nostrils, and he flailed on the ground, first onto his face, but unable to find air there thanks to the thin layer of water, flopped onto his back like a fish, staring up at Goro, lit cigarette in mouth, empty bucket in his hands. They stared at eachother for several seconds, and while Sen had a little bit of liquid in him now, and the lights were at least partially on, Goro scowled. The field was still full of stones.
He threw the bucket across the room, smashing into several delicate pieces with lots of breaking and smashing sounds, and he leaned down to lift up the man from under his armpits. He was light, thin, his family had been known for this before they'd been wiped out, and ostracized for it, but still, as Fuhen had often said, when the ground goes without rain, it hardens. The fruits born from his family had become useful for a reason. "He's gone." Goro said, shaking the man, as if he hadn't fully understood it, and he started to drag him towards the broken door. "He is gone, but this is not." The man said, Holding him over the balcony of his apartment, causing him to flail uncomfortably in the sudden shock of sunlight and noise.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Sen cried, struggling in the grasp of the man, terrified of being held so high up like this, but slowly that allowed water to seep into the cracked earth. "Look, damn you! Look!" Goro commanded, and finally Sen stopped squirming long enough to open his eyes, barely able to squint open against the harsh rays of the sun. A deep sigh left his body as some kind of understanding started to fill his body. "You can be useless when you retire, but thanks to that stupid fucking Shogun..." He said, roughly pulling Sen back over the railing and pushing him against it on the ground. "We do not have the time to wallow. Drink." Goro flicked his bandages out, grabbing a cup of water that had likely sat stagnant in the man's apartment since the day Fuhen died, and shoved it into the man's face.
"I..." He started, only to be interrupted.
"Drink." He commanded again, putting a finger on the bottom of the glass to slowly shove it up towards the diplomat's mouth. He did as he was bid, taking a sip, and as he did so the finger on the bottom of the cup shot into Sen's disgustingly dirty robes, and ripped out the wooden talisman that marked Sen as a samurai of the empire. "That's..." He started to object, and Goro shoved it in his face. "What does this mean?" He interrupted once more, now finally waiting for Sen to reply properly. "That... Iiyashi-san trusted me enough to call me a samurai..." The yellow-robed man replied. Goro smirked. The stones were coming up. The field was being tilled.
"He's gone. But this is not. Stand up." He grabbed Sen by the hem of his robes and hoisted him to his feet, leaning him against the railing where he could see the empire laid bare before him. "The petals stopped falling yesterday." Goro said, sounding a bit sad at the prospect. "But the petals touched down on the empire for a reason, Sen. He's not here to make his dream happen any more. If you want, you can mope around for the rest of your life, or you can do something to make him proud, make him smile down at you. You know he's gonna come back and kick your ass if you don't." Sen stared, his eyes open fully now, and he took another sip of the water, before making a gagging noise. Some kind of bug had crawled into it and died, he dumped the water out over the railing, and stepped back inside of his own volition, his steps shaky.
"I... understand... I'm just not..."
"Two days. Back at the palace. Fresh robes. Take a damn bath, too." There was a long pause, and Sen nodded. Goro sucked in the last of his cigarette, before flicking it over the balcony, and slamming the door shut. It was broken, and so rattled on its hinges. He took the long walk down the stairs as he lit another one, and smiled as he heard something coming from the apartment, faint, but there.
"There will come a poet... whose weapon is his word... He will slay you with his tongue..."
He stopped at a local street food vendor, giving him a small bag full of coins, pointing towards the broken door, and making sure that the next couple of days worth of meals were taken care of. The seeds were planted. They'd have to grow in their own time, but a calloused hand at least put them there to help.
Last edited by Nick on Sun Jan 28, 2024 7:29 am, edited 2 times in total.
"It's so sad!" the reader said to the writer with a frown. "The character in my book just died!" The author turned to her and burst out into tears, "I know!" he said, "So did mine!"
Ninja Info CardsShow
| Suzuko Just another girl |