Rating: K+
Written for Aino
There once was a monk who travelled far and wide. He was quite restless, never staying in one place for longer than a few days. The urge to seek his revenge was quite strong; his cursed hand never failed to remind him of just how short life was for him.
During his travels he met quite a few beautiful ladies, always making sure to ask them that very important question lest he should fail to defeat his enemy. Very few ladies took his words seriously and he rarely meant them. After some time the words had come to mean almost nothing to him. It was just something he said because it was expected.
One day his eyes were opened. He met a woman whose strength and spirit put the others to shame. She had the audacity to deny his words and even dared to lay a hand upon his cheek if he happened to accidently brush his hand near her body.
A firm smack halted the story. The children giggled and smiled, having seen the woman standing behind him for some time. It was the highlight of the small slayer's village to hear the stories the monk shared each afternoon. But the real excitement was seeing just how much he could get away with sharing before his wife caught wind of the tales.