Part 69 (1/3): The Lady Guuji

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Son Wu sighed, pulling his gi over his back, letting the soft, blue fabric settle over his undershirt. He tied a blue sash around his waistband (a detail I keep omitting from his design out of laziness), adjusting the intricate bracelet on his wrist (another detail I omit). 

"Are you ready to go?"

Yae Miko asked, entering the room from behind him.

"I am." Wu said, turning to her slowly. He stepped out of the room, walking onto the path out of the shrine as Miko joined him.

----------

The atmosphere of Watatsumi Island had changed since he was last here. 

The sun shone brightly, the wind blew with a new life, yet didn't surpass a calm breeze. The people were smiling, laughing. Men were no longer donning armor 24/7, able to return to their little, worthless lives.

It was a pleasant look.

This pleasantness was soured, however, when these people noticed him.

As Son Wu walked by, these men, women and children saw him. But they, in truth, didn't. 

They saw the legend.

They saw their savior.

They saw He Who Dared.

Wu tried not to let his brow furrow as the men Wu passed bowed to him, some nodding, others prostrating before him, not rising until he had passed them.

Merchants and shop keeps offered him free goods and food. While he indulged snacks, he had the forbearance not to abuse it. Not here.

He slowly made his way to the Watatsumi Shrine, greeted by Kokomi and Gorou.

"Lord Son." Kokomi bowed to him. "...And the Lady Guuji..." She added, earning an annoyed flick of Miko's ear. "What brings you here?" She asked.

"I'm here to pay respects." Wu said, nodding his head past the shrine.

"...I see." Kokomi said. "You are welcome to set foot on those grounds... This nation will never forget what you have done for us..." Kokomi said.

Wu and Miko bowed to Kokomi, walking past her and towards the burial grounds of the Watatsumi islanders.

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Son Wu strode into the resting place of the people of Watatsumi, both that of the men who had fallen in the war of the Vision Hunt Decree, and in the centuries prior of Watatsumi's existence.

He strode down a line of fresh headstones, carved in the written names of the men lost.

Wu hated how few of these names he recognized.

He paused, seeing one name he did recognize.

Teppei.

...

He brushed past it, acknowledging all the other names, before returning to Teppei's name.

"Miko..."

Without further prompting, Miko produced a small bundle of incense, and a bowl of dried rice grains to hold them.

Wu took the bowl gingerly, sticking sticks of incense into the grains of rice, anchoring them, before he lit the tip of his finger with ki, pressing the glowing pad of his finger against the tips of the incense, lighting them, and letting opaque, fragrant smoke flow up from it.

He set the bowl down before the headstones, standing straight, bowing his head, and clasping his hands in prayer.

He stood like that for a while, in silence.

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