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The Samurai’s Honor
Category: Historical
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The end.