1 The Forest's Whisper [Private|Shinako] Mon Oct 10, 2016 11:47 pm
Yuudai
D-rank
Quiet. The only noise that seemed to reach his ears had been that of his own light breathing, the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, other forest creatures skittering about and not paying attention to the sole human occupant of the area Yuudai occupied. The larger forest creatures, the ones that potentially posed a threat to mankind, seemed to keep their distance as well, for while they hungered, the cold chill of an aura that seemed to surround the former shinobi kept them away. Even if they chose to do harm to the sole human occupant, they human would be the sole survivor, thus it was an unspoken agreement between the creatures of the forest and the human that they would not disturb one another. The smaller woodland animals seemed to mostly keep their distance, a select few cautioned to come his way before going about their own daily adventures. A sole squirrel had perched itself in his lap, nibbling away at an acorn it happened upon next to the purple-haired individual.
While he knew what was going on around him, to a fair degree, the male kept his eyes closed, his head tucked down such that his chin pressed against his chest. He was weary; he had been ever since he left Kirigakure no Sato. Yuudai had never felt like this prior, though the circumstances he faced on a daily bases had never been present in his prior life. Back then he didn’t have the guilt of not caring for his mother well enough so that she could continue living (he blamed himself for being occupied with clan and village affairs) and nor did he have the guilt of being responsible for his significant other and their unborn child (he blamed himself for not being with them while the village was at war). It still hurt. All of it hurt. The only person he could trust, to be himself with, for the past twenty-five years was gone. The only person he had loved was gone. A child, one that hadn’t breathed its first breath, would not get to see the world, all because he wasn’t there to protect them. And then there was Suichi, whom he could not bring up. That was a betrayal of his own that he couldn’t fix, not anymore.
He was tired.
Shifting slightly to not disturb the critter who enjoyed his company, Yuudai could feel his weapon resting against his left thigh, his back in constant contact with an ancient tree. The clothes upon his back had seen better days, the hood pulled over his head hid his long hair from the world, though it was no longer black like he initially bought it. Instead it had lightened over time, mixed with the faint traces of dirt, mud, sand, and blood. Should he find a place to properly clean his clothes? Probably. That however meant dealing with people and interacting with them to a minimal degree. That was something he’d avoid. If someone happened across him, it was likely they’d be repulsed by his clothing alone, though his person had been cleaned up. His hair and skin had been cleaned such that there was nothing upon them like his clothing; though his face likely told a different story. No longer was he fully able to keep a stoic mask on, for it had been replaced with something more sorrowful. Yuudai assumed it would pass in time, perhaps after having a good night’s sleep (it was far too early for that and the previous night had done him no favours).
Even if he wanted to, he could never fully rest. His life had taught him that much – his scars from battle and torture told him that much. All he had left was himself and that was even worse. Back when they were alive and with him, people who could keep him level. That option was no longer there.
Clearing his mind these days seemed impossible, for Yuudai had no more responsibilities, no more tasks, and no more priorities that could keep him occupied. Day in and day out, the former swordsman was stuck with himself and his thoughts – his thoughts were the worst when the delved in to territory that initiated all these negative influences. To silence them was impossible; they were still fresh in his mind, even though the events had been a so long ago.
With the knowledge that it was nearing the time he usually ate lunch, Yuudai decided the moment the squirrel left his company, would be the moment he would begin his hunt for a meal.
While he knew what was going on around him, to a fair degree, the male kept his eyes closed, his head tucked down such that his chin pressed against his chest. He was weary; he had been ever since he left Kirigakure no Sato. Yuudai had never felt like this prior, though the circumstances he faced on a daily bases had never been present in his prior life. Back then he didn’t have the guilt of not caring for his mother well enough so that she could continue living (he blamed himself for being occupied with clan and village affairs) and nor did he have the guilt of being responsible for his significant other and their unborn child (he blamed himself for not being with them while the village was at war). It still hurt. All of it hurt. The only person he could trust, to be himself with, for the past twenty-five years was gone. The only person he had loved was gone. A child, one that hadn’t breathed its first breath, would not get to see the world, all because he wasn’t there to protect them. And then there was Suichi, whom he could not bring up. That was a betrayal of his own that he couldn’t fix, not anymore.
He was tired.
Shifting slightly to not disturb the critter who enjoyed his company, Yuudai could feel his weapon resting against his left thigh, his back in constant contact with an ancient tree. The clothes upon his back had seen better days, the hood pulled over his head hid his long hair from the world, though it was no longer black like he initially bought it. Instead it had lightened over time, mixed with the faint traces of dirt, mud, sand, and blood. Should he find a place to properly clean his clothes? Probably. That however meant dealing with people and interacting with them to a minimal degree. That was something he’d avoid. If someone happened across him, it was likely they’d be repulsed by his clothing alone, though his person had been cleaned up. His hair and skin had been cleaned such that there was nothing upon them like his clothing; though his face likely told a different story. No longer was he fully able to keep a stoic mask on, for it had been replaced with something more sorrowful. Yuudai assumed it would pass in time, perhaps after having a good night’s sleep (it was far too early for that and the previous night had done him no favours).
Even if he wanted to, he could never fully rest. His life had taught him that much – his scars from battle and torture told him that much. All he had left was himself and that was even worse. Back when they were alive and with him, people who could keep him level. That option was no longer there.
Clearing his mind these days seemed impossible, for Yuudai had no more responsibilities, no more tasks, and no more priorities that could keep him occupied. Day in and day out, the former swordsman was stuck with himself and his thoughts – his thoughts were the worst when the delved in to territory that initiated all these negative influences. To silence them was impossible; they were still fresh in his mind, even though the events had been a so long ago.
With the knowledge that it was nearing the time he usually ate lunch, Yuudai decided the moment the squirrel left his company, would be the moment he would begin his hunt for a meal.
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