BusinessBee Posted December 11, 2022 Share Posted December 11, 2022 This post has been flagged with warnings, as follows: Death, Trauma, Violence, War Click this notice to reveal the content. Idk if those warning apply lol As he woke up from his dreamless sleep Bob could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet down the hall. The night before he had learned that Kobo San, the man who owned the house, had nieces and nephews staying with him for a short while. After chuckling to himself and listening to the children run, Bob got up from his scratchy bed and got prepared to be bathed by the small man Taru. Knock Knock Knock “Come in!” Bob shouted to the man outside his room. “Mr. Bob, sir, it is Kobo San,” replied the mysterious voice. As the door opened wide Bob saw the tough ex-samurai standing at the door. “Mr. Bob, sir, Kobo San would like to ask when will you depart for your flight back to England?” He asked with sadness in his eyes. “Actually Kobo San I’ve decided to stay for just a little while longer, I just need to use the telegraph,” he replied, with a gleam of hope in his eyes. “Yes sir, the telegraph is just down the hall to the right beside Kobo San’s room,” Kobo San informed him, gesturing his hand in the direction. “Thank you Kobo San,” Bob told him. As Bob started to stroll down the hall he turned back looking into the bright green eyes of Kobo San; “You know Kobo San, I really appreciate you touring me all around Japan, but I have a question: how do you know so much about me?” “Kobo San has no idea what you are talking about sir,” he replied with a puzzled look on his face. “It's just that you seem to know much about me and my life,” Bob explained, gesturing to the telegraph. “Kobo San is not the one who knows, but the spirits know all.” He replied, with a mysterious and mischievous tone in his voice. “Kobo San is not guided by thoughts alone, Kobo San is connected to the spirits around him.” As Kobo San talked about spirits it hit Bob right in the brain: So Kobo San believes in Shintoism! How did I not realize that sooner. Kobo San explained to Bob the concepts of his religion and how the spirits guide him. “Uh-h Kobo San,” he stuttered. “Yes?” He answered with a questioning tone. “Is it true you were once a samurai?” Bob asked. “Yes sir, Kobo San was one of the greatest samurai,” he replied, with a reminiscent tone. “Kobo San once defended a farmer from a pack of wolves with his bow and horse, would you like to hear the story?” “Uhm sure, my telegraph can wait,” replied Bob, with a shy eagerness. “Follow Kobo San we must sit down,” he said quickly, leading Bob to the den. As they sat down Kobo San dimmed the rusty, old lantern and began; “It all began when Kobo San was strolling down the old road which the samurai of many eras before Kobo San called: The Trail of the Shepherd’s Tear. This path was said to be carved and marked by a lonesome shepherd’s last sheep who was the last of its flock. This sheep was the weakest, slowest, tiniest, and the black sheep. Legends say that wolves, bears, and eagles picked his flock off one by one until the black sheep was all that remained,” as Kobo San told the beginning of his story the room suddenly seemed dark and eerie, as if he had summoned the darkest spirit possible. “As the predators fought for their prey the shepherd and his sheep fled through the long, grassy plain that stretched before them. As the pair slowly trudged along it felt as if hundreds of sheep followed in their path. When the shepherd looked back he was amazed at the sight. A long trail of stone had been cut into the path behind them as they carried on,” he finished resting his palms on his thighs. “Kobo San, what happened to them after they finished the trail?” Questioned Bob. “Nobody knows,” Kobo San informed him, “After carving the trail it was as if they never existed, but after they left the village they had come from decided this dangerous trail was holy and decided to send out offerings and worshipers to keep the forest animals away and to keep it in shape.” “This that where you grew up?” Said Bob with a curious look on his face. “Yes, Kobo San grew up on The Trail of the Shepherd’s Tear,” he replied, looking into Bob’s eyes with a mischievous look in his big, brown eyes. “Kobo San could take you there one day, it is just a few days of travel from Kobo San’s house.” “That could be fun!” Bob enthusiastically replied. “But Kobo San wants to show you something he doesn’t show many guests, follow,” He ordered self-consciously walking towards a locked door in the room. As Kobo San opened the door Bob could feel a wave of peace and calming spread over him. It was as if something had released him from a cage he had been trapped in his whole life. “What is this place?” Asked Bob as he entered the hidden room. The room looked like paradise: the bubbling of a soft, flowing stream, the chirping of birds in the distance, the sound of a waterfall flowing over a cliff. This place seems bigger than the whole house! As Kobo San led Bob through the mysterious forest he noticed that there seemed to be a cliff stretching all around them. “This is Kobo San’s retreat, he comes here to practice his samurai skills and to be one with the spirits that surround him,” he whispered into Bob’s ear. “Kobo San found this island when he built his house, he accidentally infused a sapphire into the door and he ended up here.” So Kobo San created this place? How is that possible? Kobo San led Bob to what seemed to be a circle of densely grown trees he had learned were called spruce. “Follow Kobo San through the trees,” he instructed, “But be careful, you never know what you will see here.” As Bob shoved his way through the undergrowth he felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him, whispering and chittering. When he finally reached the end of the spruce he saw a giant monolith that had a small trail flowing behind it. Bob looked around wondering if he could spot the onlookers he felt as he passed through the forest, but instead he found a giant elk towering over him from behind. Who are you? Loomed a powerful, female voice. Bob almost could have sworn that the elk had mini stars and comets flashing through her pelt. As it telepathically spoke its antlers glowed an eerie color that he could not describe even if he tried. Suddenly Kobo San charged at Bob, sword in hand. The elk reared on its hindlegs and tossed its antlers at Kobo San, knocking him away. This is a realm called the spirit realm, explained the voice. This is a fight you must fight alone, you may conjure any weapon you see fit. As Bob thought of his weapon of choice he heard a scuffle behind him, a roaming flock of sheep had seemed to surround Kobo San holding him in place. “Let me go you filthy creatures!” He roared, kicking and lashing out at the sheep. This new Kobo San was not the one Bob had grown close to over the past few weeks, this Kobo San was one that would have frightened the one he knew. “Kobo San, what happened to you? I thought we were friends?” Bob screamed across the clearing. “Bob, you are just a pawn in the grand scheme of the spirit’s plan! Friend or foe, we must all lay ourselves down for them.” As Kobo San roared on, Bob imagined in his head a weapon, not any weapon, but the sword of a samurai. I must beat him at his own game, maybe the old Kobo San is still here. “Come at me Bob! Or are you too scared like you were when you were a child?” Taunted Kobo San, his face morphing into the face of a cold-blooded killer. Suddenly, like a flash, a memory crashed into his brain. He was sixteen and in the army, his brother had suddenly charged at the enemy’s forces sacrificing himself for the good of his country. Bob knew he should have charged forward and backed his brother up, but he just couldn’t. It was as if someone had attached a chain to his ankle and chained him to the ground. Snapping out of his memory he charged Kobo San; who was free of his wooly prison. They locked swords and fought viciously until at last Kobo San had fallen to the ground. Seizing his opportunity, Bob held his sword at Kobo San’s throat waiting for the sound of submission, but it never came. “I will never surrender, a samurai will fight to the death,” snapped Kobo San suddenly jumping to his feet and rushing at Bob. “Ask and you shall receive Kobo San, death waits around every corner,” Bob calmly rebutted and suddenly the clinking of metal continued; sword against sword, man against man. The battle felt as if it had lasted for hours, but Bob kept swinging. He wasn’t fighting to help Kobo San anymore. He was fighting for survival. At last it seemed as though Kobo San had tired out and his slashes were sluggish. Seeing this, Bob ended the battle and felt regret for how he did it...... Link to comment https://forums.ditchthelabel.org/topic/5844-idk-a-name/ Share on other sites More sharing options...
Digital Mentor Luie Posted December 12, 2022 Digital Mentor Share Posted December 12, 2022 This post has been flagged with warnings, as follows: Death, Trauma, Violence, War Click this notice to reveal the content. On 12/11/2022 at 2:43 AM, BusinessBee said: Idk if those warning apply lol As he woke up from his dreamless sleep Bob could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet down the hall. The night before he had learned that Kobo San, the man who owned the house, had nieces and nephews staying with him for a short while. After chuckling to himself and listening to the children run, Bob got up from his scratchy bed and got prepared to be bathed by the small man Taru. Knock Knock Knock “Come in!” Bob shouted to the man outside his room. “Mr. Bob, sir, it is Kobo San,” replied the mysterious voice. As the door opened wide Bob saw the tough ex-samurai standing at the door. “Mr. Bob, sir, Kobo San would like to ask when will you depart for your flight back to England?” He asked with sadness in his eyes. “Actually Kobo San I’ve decided to stay for just a little while longer, I just need to use the telegraph,” he replied, with a gleam of hope in his eyes. “Yes sir, the telegraph is just down the hall to the right beside Kobo San’s room,” Kobo San informed him, gesturing his hand in the direction. “Thank you Kobo San,” Bob told him. As Bob started to stroll down the hall he turned back looking into the bright green eyes of Kobo San; “You know Kobo San, I really appreciate you touring me all around Japan, but I have a question: how do you know so much about me?” “Kobo San has no idea what you are talking about sir,” he replied with a puzzled look on his face. “It's just that you seem to know much about me and my life,” Bob explained, gesturing to the telegraph. “Kobo San is not the one who knows, but the spirits know all.” He replied, with a mysterious and mischievous tone in his voice. “Kobo San is not guided by thoughts alone, Kobo San is connected to the spirits around him.” As Kobo San talked about spirits it hit Bob right in the brain: So Kobo San believes in Shintoism! How did I not realize that sooner. Kobo San explained to Bob the concepts of his religion and how the spirits guide him. “Uh-h Kobo San,” he stuttered. “Yes?” He answered with a questioning tone. “Is it true you were once a samurai?” Bob asked. “Yes sir, Kobo San was one of the greatest samurai,” he replied, with a reminiscent tone. “Kobo San once defended a farmer from a pack of wolves with his bow and horse, would you like to hear the story?” “Uhm sure, my telegraph can wait,” replied Bob, with a shy eagerness. “Follow Kobo San we must sit down,” he said quickly, leading Bob to the den. As they sat down Kobo San dimmed the rusty, old lantern and began; “It all began when Kobo San was strolling down the old road which the samurai of many eras before Kobo San called: The Trail of the Shepherd’s Tear. This path was said to be carved and marked by a lonesome shepherd’s last sheep who was the last of its flock. This sheep was the weakest, slowest, tiniest, and the black sheep. Legends say that wolves, bears, and eagles picked his flock off one by one until the black sheep was all that remained,” as Kobo San told the beginning of his story the room suddenly seemed dark and eerie, as if he had summoned the darkest spirit possible. “As the predators fought for their prey the shepherd and his sheep fled through the long, grassy plain that stretched before them. As the pair slowly trudged along it felt as if hundreds of sheep followed in their path. When the shepherd looked back he was amazed at the sight. A long trail of stone had been cut into the path behind them as they carried on,” he finished resting his palms on his thighs. “Kobo San, what happened to them after they finished the trail?” Questioned Bob. “Nobody knows,” Kobo San informed him, “After carving the trail it was as if they never existed, but after they left the village they had come from decided this dangerous trail was holy and decided to send out offerings and worshipers to keep the forest animals away and to keep it in shape.” “This that where you grew up?” Said Bob with a curious look on his face. “Yes, Kobo San grew up on The Trail of the Shepherd’s Tear,” he replied, looking into Bob’s eyes with a mischievous look in his big, brown eyes. “Kobo San could take you there one day, it is just a few days of travel from Kobo San’s house.” “That could be fun!” Bob enthusiastically replied. “But Kobo San wants to show you something he doesn’t show many guests, follow,” He ordered self-consciously walking towards a locked door in the room. As Kobo San opened the door Bob could feel a wave of peace and calming spread over him. It was as if something had released him from a cage he had been trapped in his whole life. “What is this place?” Asked Bob as he entered the hidden room. The room looked like paradise: the bubbling of a soft, flowing stream, the chirping of birds in the distance, the sound of a waterfall flowing over a cliff. This place seems bigger than the whole house! As Kobo San led Bob through the mysterious forest he noticed that there seemed to be a cliff stretching all around them. “This is Kobo San’s retreat, he comes here to practice his samurai skills and to be one with the spirits that surround him,” he whispered into Bob’s ear. “Kobo San found this island when he built his house, he accidentally infused a sapphire into the door and he ended up here.” So Kobo San created this place? How is that possible? Kobo San led Bob to what seemed to be a circle of densely grown trees he had learned were called spruce. “Follow Kobo San through the trees,” he instructed, “But be careful, you never know what you will see here.” As Bob shoved his way through the undergrowth he felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him, whispering and chittering. When he finally reached the end of the spruce he saw a giant monolith that had a small trail flowing behind it. Bob looked around wondering if he could spot the onlookers he felt as he passed through the forest, but instead he found a giant elk towering over him from behind. Who are you? Loomed a powerful, female voice. Bob almost could have sworn that the elk had mini stars and comets flashing through her pelt. As it telepathically spoke its antlers glowed an eerie color that he could not describe even if he tried. Suddenly Kobo San charged at Bob, sword in hand. The elk reared on its hindlegs and tossed its antlers at Kobo San, knocking him away. This is a realm called the spirit realm, explained the voice. This is a fight you must fight alone, you may conjure any weapon you see fit. As Bob thought of his weapon of choice he heard a scuffle behind him, a roaming flock of sheep had seemed to surround Kobo San holding him in place. “Let me go you filthy creatures!” He roared, kicking and lashing out at the sheep. This new Kobo San was not the one Bob had grown close to over the past few weeks, this Kobo San was one that would have frightened the one he knew. “Kobo San, what happened to you? I thought we were friends?” Bob screamed across the clearing. “Bob, you are just a pawn in the grand scheme of the spirit’s plan! Friend or foe, we must all lay ourselves down for them.” As Kobo San roared on, Bob imagined in his head a weapon, not any weapon, but the sword of a samurai. I must beat him at his own game, maybe the old Kobo San is still here. “Come at me Bob! Or are you too scared like you were when you were a child?” Taunted Kobo San, his face morphing into the face of a cold-blooded killer. Suddenly, like a flash, a memory crashed into his brain. He was sixteen and in the army, his brother had suddenly charged at the enemy’s forces sacrificing himself for the good of his country. Bob knew he should have charged forward and backed his brother up, but he just couldn’t. It was as if someone had attached a chain to his ankle and chained him to the ground. Snapping out of his memory he charged Kobo San; who was free of his wooly prison. They locked swords and fought viciously until at last Kobo San had fallen to the ground. Seizing his opportunity, Bob held his sword at Kobo San’s throat waiting for the sound of submission, but it never came. “I will never surrender, a samurai will fight to the death,” snapped Kobo San suddenly jumping to his feet and rushing at Bob. “Ask and you shall receive Kobo San, death waits around every corner,” Bob calmly rebutted and suddenly the clinking of metal continued; sword against sword, man against man. The battle felt as if it had lasted for hours, but Bob kept swinging. He wasn’t fighting to help Kobo San anymore. He was fighting for survival. At last it seemed as though Kobo San had tired out and his slashes were sluggish. Seeing this, Bob ended the battle and felt regret for how he did it...... Heyy @BusinessBee, I am Luie, one of the support mentors. This is some interesting stuff, have you written this story line your self? If so, what inspired you to do so? Link to comment https://forums.ditchthelabel.org/topic/5844-idk-a-name/#findComment-59079 Share on other sites More sharing options...
BusinessBee Posted December 12, 2022 Author Share Posted December 12, 2022 This post has been flagged with warnings, as follows: Death, Trauma, Violence, War Click this notice to reveal the content. 4 hours ago, Luie said: Heyy @BusinessBee, I am Luie, one of the support mentors. This is some interesting stuff, have you written this story line your self? If so, what inspired you to do so? Yes, I wrote it myself. But the funny thing is this was for a school test Link to comment https://forums.ditchthelabel.org/topic/5844-idk-a-name/#findComment-59093 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Digital Mentor Luie Posted December 13, 2022 Digital Mentor Share Posted December 13, 2022 This post has been flagged with warnings, as follows: Death, Trauma, Violence, War Click this notice to reveal the content. 18 hours ago, BusinessBee said: Yes, I wrote it myself. But the funny thing is this was for a school test No way? This is genuinely well thought through, keep those creative juices flowing! Link to comment https://forums.ditchthelabel.org/topic/5844-idk-a-name/#findComment-59141 Share on other sites More sharing options...
BusinessBee Posted December 13, 2022 Author Share Posted December 13, 2022 This post has been flagged with warnings, as follows: Death, Trauma, Violence, War Click this notice to reveal the content. 5 hours ago, Luie said: No way? This is genuinely well thought through, keep those creative juices flowing! Haha thanks! Link to comment https://forums.ditchthelabel.org/topic/5844-idk-a-name/#findComment-59297 Share on other sites More sharing options...
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