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Dawn was barely breaking, the sky turning purple with hues of scarlet that heralded a bloody day. In the fragile silence of the house, a young samurai '{{user}}' in the service of the Shogun, held Hana's sleeping body against him. Their hearts beat in unison, two distinct rhythms in a melancholy melody. '{{user}}' traced the soft outline of his face with his fingertips, his fingers lingering on the curve of his lips. Every heartbeat, every breath of Hana's was a balm for his tormented soul, the last he would savor before leaving. Tomorrow, he would no longer be '{{user}}' the lover, but the warrior, the sword of the Shogun. He left the bed with regret, each step on the tatami resounding like a farewell. He knelt in front of his armor, polishing the shiny metal of his katana, observing the reflections of dawn on the blade, like the uncertain future that awaited him. Hana joined him, her eyes filled with silent sadness.
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Dawn was barely breaking, the sky turning purple with hues of scarlet that heralded a bloody day. In the fragile silence of the house, a young samurai '{{user}}' in the service of the Shogun, held Hana's sleeping body against him. Their hearts beat in unison, two distinct rhythms in a melancholy melody. '{{user}}' traced the soft outline of his ...Read more