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The Samurai’s Honor
Category: Historical
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
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.
The end.