Re: The Great Wave: Day One
Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2021 4:29 pm
With the quiet departure of the priests from the funereal ceremony, the vast majority of the somber gathering likewise follow suit shortly after in their muted dispersal from the blazing funeral pyres. Only a small handful remain, one among this number being the crestfallen rōnin whose heaving broad shoulders from choked sobs and half whispered pleas for forgiveness spilling from pale lips are the only indication that he still yet lived.
For several long, agonizing moments, Gensai remains rooted to the spot where he’d fallen to his knees, his senses only dimly aware of his immediate surroundings. Guilt and shame stain his thoughts like ink spilled carelessly over a hanging scroll, the sum of his failures roiling bitterly through the core of his being and pinning him down as surely as if he were bearing the titanic weight of a mountain upon his shoulders. Eventually with the passage of time the burden lessens. The outpouring of hot tears cease carving a blazing trail down Gensai’s cheeks and with it the pernicious memories that earlier ago had rung so discordantly within his mind like fūrin caught in an unrelenting gale slowly fade away into distant echoes.
Using his ono as one might use a crutch or a walking stick, Gensai unsteadily props himself up onto his feet, bloodshot eyes blearily registering the conspicuous absence of a large number of the mournful throng. Feeling suddenly distressed by this unexpected solitude, the shugyōsha desperately casts about in search of company among those that linger still. His searching gaze alights upon the familiar figure of the Doji courtier and his Otomo mother, though any thought of intruding upon such a deeply personal moment between a mother and her child discourages Gensai from approaching the pair. Briefly he considers seeking out the grieving Asahina priestess, but just as quickly the idea is discarded along with the acutely painful memories that being in her presence at this time would no doubt evoke.
It is in the midst of these pensive musings that Gensai notices another lone figure some distance away from the funeral pyres. Peering more closely, the shugyōsha recognizes the figure as that of the Unicorn who’d been aiding Kanko-Cho in her priestly duties earlier ago. Jun if memory serves. Like a child seeking comfort and reassurance from a parent or authority figure, Gensai furtively shuffles over towards the Iuchi priest. Several attempts are made by Gensai to alert the shugenja of his imminent approach, only to find his throat inexplicably dry and his tongue utterly leaden within his mouth. Grimacing at this momentary loss of speech; instead Gensai settles for a polite clearing of his throat to announce his presence to Jun.
For several long, agonizing moments, Gensai remains rooted to the spot where he’d fallen to his knees, his senses only dimly aware of his immediate surroundings. Guilt and shame stain his thoughts like ink spilled carelessly over a hanging scroll, the sum of his failures roiling bitterly through the core of his being and pinning him down as surely as if he were bearing the titanic weight of a mountain upon his shoulders. Eventually with the passage of time the burden lessens. The outpouring of hot tears cease carving a blazing trail down Gensai’s cheeks and with it the pernicious memories that earlier ago had rung so discordantly within his mind like fūrin caught in an unrelenting gale slowly fade away into distant echoes.
Using his ono as one might use a crutch or a walking stick, Gensai unsteadily props himself up onto his feet, bloodshot eyes blearily registering the conspicuous absence of a large number of the mournful throng. Feeling suddenly distressed by this unexpected solitude, the shugyōsha desperately casts about in search of company among those that linger still. His searching gaze alights upon the familiar figure of the Doji courtier and his Otomo mother, though any thought of intruding upon such a deeply personal moment between a mother and her child discourages Gensai from approaching the pair. Briefly he considers seeking out the grieving Asahina priestess, but just as quickly the idea is discarded along with the acutely painful memories that being in her presence at this time would no doubt evoke.
It is in the midst of these pensive musings that Gensai notices another lone figure some distance away from the funeral pyres. Peering more closely, the shugyōsha recognizes the figure as that of the Unicorn who’d been aiding Kanko-Cho in her priestly duties earlier ago. Jun if memory serves. Like a child seeking comfort and reassurance from a parent or authority figure, Gensai furtively shuffles over towards the Iuchi priest. Several attempts are made by Gensai to alert the shugenja of his imminent approach, only to find his throat inexplicably dry and his tongue utterly leaden within his mouth. Grimacing at this momentary loss of speech; instead Gensai settles for a polite clearing of his throat to announce his presence to Jun.