A Blissful Wave of Nostalgia
The peaceful small Ionian village thrived not only with harmony but also a symphony of laughing and playing children's voices stinging the people's sensitive ears accompanied by the blissful birds' chirps. A flock of thick gilded sunshine rays lasered the small Ionian village, even though they were parried by the thick trees' crowns that granted its respective temporal guests a tad of shadow from the spring sun's radiant smile. Majestically abstract, but still tiny butterflies flicked confidently their wings while surrounding the flock of children that were intoxicated into their child's play that included hide and seek, chasing each other, and attempting to catch butterflies.
An outcast from the infantile crowd was rather finding solace in watching them with a radiant, however, humble smile perched at the corner of his fleshy lips, reflecting his remaining positivity and glee on his wrinkled facial features that were gravely contoured. It was a strong reminder to him to cherish every single moment, regardless of his age and health condition, because it might be the very last moment he would contemplate the prospect of happiness.
As a wee reminder of how much time had swiftly elapsed, especially to take care personally of children that were as young as them. To teach them, to nourish them, to listen to their stories and shenanigans of their fierce school fights and bickers between some groups that greatly rivaled one another. They would gladly share a meal with their father and mother, regardless if it is breakfast, dinner, or even lunchtime as a traditional and incredibly loving family.
Soft chuckles, bittersweet tears, and sometimes temporal episodes of anger, where they would end up negotiating and finding a diplomatic solution heavily haunted Yasuo's hurricane of thoughts on a loop. Especially once he found himself immersed in the prospect of young children playing as if his presence was a third wheel for them. Mother nature, the sun, the butterflies, and their buddies' presence were just present in front of them.
Nowadays, they would have grown up and separated in different paths, even if they were just three of them. Two daughters and a son with their own strictly unique thoughts and ideas pursued their own futures to bloom, even spending regular time with their parents Ahri and Yasuo the very chance they would have obtained. As charming and courageous as their own parents, made of their precious flesh and blood.
The thick tree's crown blanketed the old Yasuo's leaned figure against the crude tree bark in a soothing shadow to reassure him from the late spring's heat and the sun's stubborn gilt sunshine rays. It felt so incredible to spend a split moment, where his rigidly fat fingers wouldn't linger on the liquor's bottle and he would enjoy the moments, where the fresh air of refreshing nature such as trees and the grass sharply harrowed his vulnerable nostrils. The liquor's ethereally eternal strength wasn't sufficiently potent to grip his seldom self-control to engulf in the little, nevertheless, beautiful things from this excessively short mortal life.
Even with the elapsing time, as soon as he reached his sixties, his health deteriorated naturally, and his organs weakened inevitably after consultations with his doctor, alcohol was excluded from his daily routine or at least the consumption was reduced to once or twice in a month. His wife, Ahri, didn't allow him much to consume the enticing liquor lately, due to his age and health condition, which initially seeped with fiery anger Yasuo. Until the very moment, he fathomed the circumstance that he is no longer in his beau timeline, where the liquor participated actively in his daily routine and he used to share alcoholic beverages with his then-girlfriend Ahri before their marriage.
Life and the years had been extremely crude with everyone and treating every unique individual with different kinds of challenges including the old samurai, regardless of how sinful their deeds were.
"Hey, fellow samurai," In the meantime, a small horde of three children galloped to the old samurai who was initially enjoying his preferred peace as an ordinary introvert with excited exclaim, catching him off guard. The corners of his fleshy, strawberry-coloured lips etched upward with a sincere smile whilst his frail heart hammered into his chest. "Can you tell us a glorious story?" Shortly before they sat on the grass, they deeply bent in front of the older gentleman, saluting him with unconditional respect due to their significant age difference and the bright contrast of experience storage they have collected through their mortal lives.
It was a pure bliss how his once unnoticed presence suddenly captured the tiny horde of youngsters' keenness to be invested in the outstanding persona that distinguished him from the others in terms of age, life experience, and a bountiful of stories to spill the beans. In addition to his bliss, it was a stark reminder of how he hasn't been forgotten as a protector of Ionia and Yasuo would indulge himself in the casual, traditionally serene life to form a family with the nine-tailed fox he had encountered back in Bilgewater.
As much as the small Ionian village was well aware of his legendary presence the memorable deeds he had done for them and how the older generations transferred the glorious stories about defending the region to the younger offspring like wildfire.
"From where I shall begin," A husky chuckle escaped his mouth, lingering on his dark brown eyes, absorbed with stark humbleness and happiness onto the group which consisted of one girl and two boys. His muscly elbows and back surprisingly endured the inescapably rigid tree bark's texture contacting his back for half an hour. "What about the heroic deeds?"
"We want a story about the fox girl." In the interim, the stringently potent highlight of the last two words in the jubilant group's symphony honed his ears while his fragile heartbeats escalated with a rich medley of nervousness, fiery enthusiasm, and nirvana at the thought of the nine tails fox he had constructed together future and beforehand, meeting her on their way to Bilgewater. In a heartbeat, the ronin would passionately babble stories about the lady of his life and how everything had started at first with hours as if the time was endless.
"How did you even meet her, Yasuo?" The little girl asked politely, bashfulness hinted at her inquiry as a translucently pink blush powdered her childishly chubby cheeks.
"Well, firstly, I was on a ship with a mysterious woman with a cloak, who was a Vastaya. She had quite fascinating fox features for a half-human." Vivid flashbacks scintillated the ronin's eyesight whilst he stilled his eye contact with the group, swapping mutually respectably polite simper with each other. The very thought of meeting for the very first time back in his beau days the intimidating Vastaya with the ethereal spellcraft haunted him since the day he interacted with her for the first time. "She was looking for a bodyguard on her way to Bilgewater."
"Mhm." Meanwhile, the horde of juvenile trio hummed softly in unison as their feral enthusiasm was invested into the old gentleman's story.
"Her fascination with the Bilgewater stuff she had seen as soon as we arrived didn't capture my interest at first. When we had to go to an inn to book a room for the night since the nights are severely dangerous with two separate bedrooms, the merchant wasn't convincing until Ahri cast a spell on him as she wasn't having any issues to book a single room for both of us."
"So, you were mistaken for a couple?"
"Absolutely!" A tiny, outstanding smirk haphazardly massaged the old gentleman's facial features at the initially embarrassing thought back then to share the same room with a woman he scarcely knew personally, even her name was a hazy fog for his ocean of thoughts. "I didn't know her name at first. I asked her twice for her name and on the second try, I received the answer I was looking for. I promised to protect her as my duty as a bodyguard since Ahri was looking for an old relic, related to her roots. We delved into discussions."
"I believe that you have protected her, haven't you?" One of the boys exclaimed jubilantly with eager excitement to discover the enigma behind the story and whether if still Yasuo as a legend and protector of Ionia is still worthy to be emitted from the civilians' mouths. From self-defense against the former allies that had falsely mistaken him for his master's murderer to invaders, heroic deeds were scribbled verbally and spread like a heroic legacy to several generations.
"I did and I solemnly vowed to her, even if I'm a mortal just like all of us except Vastayas like her. The same night when we booked a room for both of us with Ahri, she had a nightmare and left the inn including a letter on the table. From what I have acknowledged from some of our fellow Bilgewater allies is that Ahri was on her way to the Shadow Isles, where is her quest's location."
"I bet her nightmare was so frightening that she didn't want to bother you with what's on her mind." The bashful girl responded, nicely interrupting by raising her hand to grant herself the chance to utter a tad of commentary on the current story's progress and overall development.
"O-Oh," All of a sudden, sharp, but still, neatly crimson red manicured fingernails tapped gently on his strong, cotton-clothed scapula that hitched his rhythmically serene breathing until it accelerated more frequently. "She was rather having a nightmare about how she killed her former lover that led her to her attempted murder of me, but she didn't want to cause it and that's why Ahri fled. I was scared to death, where Ahri disappeared and how I would potentially find her so that to not fail my duty and promise as a bodyguard."
During that time, the kumiho's fluffy porcelain-white nine tails snaked around the organic cotton fabric of his sleeveless T-shirt for emotional and moral support. Her unpredictable presence rather caused dozens of symptoms, seizing the initial composure and calmness of the samurai. From boyish nervousness to a dew of glistening sweat and blush plastered on his complexion and his remarkable scar on the bridge of his nose.
Moreover, the humble sea of children's jewels ogled at the enigmatic kumiho woman with a surrealistic fusion of formidability, respect, and tremendous fascination glinted their gazes as if they felt eternal and judgmental. Nonetheless, they were pretty harmless and helpless. The bottom of their strawberry-colored lips stretched downward as they were speechless and questioned whose presence it could be.
Was it the lady Yasuo who enthusiastically narrated? Is it the lady that had altered his life for good? Especially offering him a great deal of support, unconditional love, and assistance through the elapsing years that felt like seconds for the wretched mortals like the ronin and the fellow human youngsters, unlike Vastayas. Vastayas' lives felt like an ineludible and morbid eternity to be experienced and how hundreds of years were a monotonous loop recorder, where the same soundtrack restlessly played.
Her lion mane of unkempt ebony strands curtained partly her alabaster complexion with her outstandingly bewitching, feminine facial features and her plump, rosy red lips forming a harmlessly adorable smile. Her bright, lively citrine bijous arrowed her surroundings for a brief moment until they descended onto her primary target. Her Yasuo.
"Yasuo, darling," Her warm, fruit-stained breath brushed gently his earlobe as soon as she knelt behind him, offering a modestly maternal simper to the youngsters as a warm welcome for a split second until her attention was ultimately accented on her beloved husband. "It's time to go home." Ahri wrapped her delicately silken arm around his old body, opting to aid him to get up from the ground and support him, spitting a sultry, even though overloaded with pristine innocence whisper.
"You look just like her." Yasuo registered a mumble as a direct reply, smiling lovingly at her.
"I know." The couple had exchanged mutually affectionate stares as citrine and chocolate brown intertwined as their nuances' contrast complimented the emotions and the unconditional merriness they have carried through the years until nowadays. Even the rest of the once keenly playing and laughing little kids' stares lingered on the tree prospect as if something unexplainably unearthly had occurred. Their peers not only have the very chance to interact with the glorious Ronin but also the woman who was always by his side and vice versa with their own purposes and goals.
They were already informed consciously with solid facts that who is the individual that steadies the samurai's life, also known as his right hand.
"Whoa!" The unison of awes they harvested was undeniably immense and the romantic pairing couldn't illustrate their borderless mirth and honor of how easily recognizable they were by the rest of the village which was well aware of their presence and spending the rest of their days in peace. "Are you that fox girl that Yasuo was talking about the whole time?"
"Yes, I am." In the meantime, the fox lady registered a respectful nod with her head as a positive response to the inquiry. "We have enough stories to share with you another time." She playfully patted his shoulder as soon as she assisted him to stand from the ground, even if the tree crown's generous offer with a shadow darkened their façades. "Come on, darling. You have to rest." The black-haired lady offered him a heartwarming peck on his forehead.
Once the romantic pairing,' silhouettes mirrored their slow, but steady movements aimed at the forest, the pack of youngsters contemplated continuously the heartwarmingly romantic scenery. The bright contrast between the mere mortal and Vastayan life was more worth than a thousand-word exemplar, where both sides would envenom with their convincing and argumentative sentences and paragraphs their perceptions on the life and how much it meant to them even if certain of them outlive the others.
Despite the ruthlessly relentless elapsing years that handled earth-born individuals including Yasuo with wrinkles, deteriorated health, hazy memories, and foggy vision, his right hand would always stand, support, cherish, and love him for what he is. An individual from an enigmatically unique breed's unconditional love can't be halted for the earth-born to create and indulge in the fabulous and altruistic moments that life had structured plans for them as a romantic pairing.
