Gratitude Bestows Reverence
healing seasonal/ bunni
11-19-2024, 11:44 AM
Jiro had many reasons to feel as if his brain were flooded with intricacies that he had difficulty untangling. Being born to that of Hattori Hanzo was a smothering unlike most must endure. An expectation to strive, to grow, to be more than enough. Successful, righteous, stoic, and damn near perfect. For Jiro, that was impossible. Yes, he loved his healing, garden tending, and wound caring. He even enjoyed hunting and trap crafting, but unlike his siblings, it wouldn't be good enough. Jiro wasn't serious. He didn't see why life was required to have a gloomy cloud threatening rain over your head every day. Some of his other siblings did see it that way. Maybe it was bred in them. Probably why he was dubbed Jiro. Had his father seen it from the day he was born? That he was destined to be a disappointment?
No matter the reason, the cause, or whatever aligned with the stars above, Jiro felt that pressure. Felt it smothering his very being as he walked. Farther and farther from the bamboo, he began to feel it lift. Though still, it lingered. Following him like a ghost hellbent on staying in this place of existence. Nights plagued with terrors of being cast out, waking up panting and heart racing. Any failure in trapping, any plant that died, a stark reminder that he wasn't Kaizen, Kina, or Takeji. He wasn't any of them. Would never be any of them. All he had going for him was the muscle beneath his tall, bulky frame. At least he could hold his own, for whatever that was worth.
Lost within the cloud of his foggy frustrations, Jiro did not realize he was practically traipsing through a sacred area. It wasn't until the subtle plop of fish breaking the surface of the lightly glowing pond did he look up. His pale grey gaze blinked in surprise a few times as his paws came to a stop, disturbing the fallen leaf litter strewn across the ground. In the background, tall beech trees towered in contrast to the rune-etched stones and shadowy fae that stood at its edge.
Clearing his throat, feeling rather embarrassed, Jiro approached with apprehension. "Apologies," he rumbles, his common tongue better than his siblings by far. He'd never wanted to be pretentious so had dedicated more time to learning both languages. Was that not a good thing, father? His lips pull up in a lopsided smile, friendly and relaxed, even his tail gave a few half-hearted swings. "Been quite lost in thought lately. Can't quite seem to empty this ol' noggin' of mine," Jiro jokes, laughing at himself though it doesn't fit with his expression. There's a disconnect between that smile and the dullness of his gaze.
No matter the reason, the cause, or whatever aligned with the stars above, Jiro felt that pressure. Felt it smothering his very being as he walked. Farther and farther from the bamboo, he began to feel it lift. Though still, it lingered. Following him like a ghost hellbent on staying in this place of existence. Nights plagued with terrors of being cast out, waking up panting and heart racing. Any failure in trapping, any plant that died, a stark reminder that he wasn't Kaizen, Kina, or Takeji. He wasn't any of them. Would never be any of them. All he had going for him was the muscle beneath his tall, bulky frame. At least he could hold his own, for whatever that was worth.
Lost within the cloud of his foggy frustrations, Jiro did not realize he was practically traipsing through a sacred area. It wasn't until the subtle plop of fish breaking the surface of the lightly glowing pond did he look up. His pale grey gaze blinked in surprise a few times as his paws came to a stop, disturbing the fallen leaf litter strewn across the ground. In the background, tall beech trees towered in contrast to the rune-etched stones and shadowy fae that stood at its edge.
Clearing his throat, feeling rather embarrassed, Jiro approached with apprehension. "Apologies," he rumbles, his common tongue better than his siblings by far. He'd never wanted to be pretentious so had dedicated more time to learning both languages. Was that not a good thing, father? His lips pull up in a lopsided smile, friendly and relaxed, even his tail gave a few half-hearted swings. "Been quite lost in thought lately. Can't quite seem to empty this ol' noggin' of mine," Jiro jokes, laughing at himself though it doesn't fit with his expression. There's a disconnect between that smile and the dullness of his gaze.
wc: 459
total: 895 / 1500
