Like a slap on his face, Zoro watched his surrounding. A small cup of sake on his fingers, and a lovely woman dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono right beside him. As he saw her hands holding up the tokkuri, the ceramic flask, Zoro finally realized that he could be on one of the myriad drinking houses anywhere in Kyoto. Dammit, he whispered on his head, did I just spaced out just now?
Once the woman mentioned about the story, he started to recall that he’s been storytelling at her about his experiences as a ronin. Well, it’s not a story worth to brag, actually. Maybe it’s because the sake started to kicked in, or it could be because she’s radiating with so much splendor before him. Zoro drank on his sake, and put down the cup on the table. “...Well, honestly, I prefer to put my foes at peace quickly. That’s the ideal way to end someone’s life. Quick and painless. The thing is, that man, had more life force than what I imagined. As expected from a fellow former samurai, I must say. Until the end he kept screaming at me, blood gushing out from his chest, and then... there’s the silence.”
Zoro’s smirking at her. “Life can be so cruel out there. With so many landlords assassinated, the masterless samurai became jobless. I guess that was one way for us to keep on livin’: attacking their fellow wanderers. But it’s enough about me. I too want to know something about you. You don’t look like an average waitress to me, okusan.”
@chiijoku | Cont’d from [X]
