Writing Prompt #11 - Buried Treasure - (4/10 - 4/24/17)

[Custodian]

Spring cleaning has come to The Lower World, and the writing prompts are no exception!

BURIED TREASURE
While tidying up their apartment/office/wagon/etc, your character finds something that they haven't seen in years... ​

You can post your reply directly into this thread, into the Storybook, or in both places, if you wish! Please remember to follow the rules when sharing your response(s). Love one of the responses that you've read? Shower the author with compliments here!

 

[Kuro-Hebi]

2017.06.02 - Times long gone (Buried treasure)
While tidying up their apartment/office/wagon/etc, your character finds something that they haven't seen in years...

This old house that had seen him grow, at least until his father's death, had changed considerably over the years. It had belonged to the Wakahisa for many, many generations. But, as time flew by, the house had to be maintained, repaired and renovated on many occasions. Yet, even as the rooms had changed to welcome the comfort of the modern times, some things never disappeared; little things, on which clung memories of the past.

Has he held the worn bokken, Katsuro couldn't help but smile. There were two of them, stored into a wooden crate, tucked into a dark corner of the laundry room - which doubled as a storeroom - under a thin layer of dust and cobwebs. He traced the worn silk over the tsuka with his calloused hand; a hand now used to wielding a sword daily. The bokken felt different in his grip now, and not merely because it was lighter than a real katana. The last hands to hold this training sword had been those of a child. A ten years old boy, eager to learn and to please his father. Who looked up to that man in almost everything and whose simple wish was to, one day, be as strong and devoted.

With a pinch of sadness, Katsuro placed the bokken back into the crate, alongside his father's training sword, and closed the lid. His hand then went for the katana at his hip and, in one graceful movement, slid the blade out of its scabbard. The boy had become a man, as strong and devoted as his father. But also far more hard-hearted and deadly.

"Would you be proud of me, Otosan? Is this the path you foresaw for me... Probably not. I've lived too long already, and I shall live longer still. Many more lives will end at the tip of my blade, taking a part of me everytime, until I'm nothing more than a husk. Yet even then, I won't stop. Not until my services are no longer required, not until I'm given freedom. I'm sorry Otosan, but the world needs men with no heart to force it into motion, to avoid extinction. There can't be rebirth without the cycle of death." He spoke to no one, only to the empty room.

Katsuro gave a swing of his sword, admiring the light dancing on the naked blade, before sheathing it again with that swift and graceful movement. He turned his head slightly toward the door as he heard approaching footsteps; he knew those steps and that brought a smile to hi lips. A tall black man appeared in the door frame - distressed jeans, a black t-shirt and a smile that could melt his resolve in an instant.

"Hey, hot stuff. Dinner's about ready. So bring your very sexy ass to the dining room will you?" Theodore smiled at him before walking back toward the kitchen.

Katsuro could only offer a light snort and a smirk as he followed that man, leaving the memories behind, in a dark corner of the room. That's right... he had Theodore now; His light in the darkness, his conscience for when he lacked any morals. His love to fill his empty heart.

"Maybe there's still hope for me after all, Otosan." Katsuro cast a last look at the room before closing the door.