Pataniscas Satânicas

Pataniscas Satânicas

domingo, 18 de outubro de 2015

Sometimes when you fall... - Part I

The freshness of elder pines.

His hearing strains as he walks through the path. The pines stretch above on either side of him. His slippers softly crush the needles beneath his feet.

He can hear them. There are six of them. Hiding in the branches.

He does not slow his steady pace, but instead adjusts his Katana nearer to him. When he needs to unsheathe it, it will be over quickly.

Almost painfully he remembers the night in the Shögun’s keep. Her name was Misako, and she was First Geisha to Homori-kun.

As one of his Samurai, he had been invited for the victory feast, and in honour of his feats in battle, Misako had performed a dance for him.

She had danced in the rain, to the sound of a single Koto, and it was poetry in motion. As he sipped at his impeccably made green tea, he realized she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

That same night he went to her room, and proclaimed his undying love for her. She raised a single, slender, white finger to her painted lips, pointing to the mark of her servitude. She was Geisha, a living work of art, a symbol of status, property of the Shögun. Not to be loved, but admired.

He did what he had to do.

They were closing in, now. He could feel the woods breathing closer.

He catches an arrow mid-flight with his left hand, quivering inches from his neck. The shooter had exhaled as he released it, giving himself away. They were either nervous or over-confident. 
He might yet survive this.

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