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Zeno's eyes itch. He tries to lift his hand towards the itching eyes to scratch, but he is met with resistance. The ground has started to slightly bury him it seems.

Zeno wiggles his hand, getting it free and lifting it finally, starting to rub his itching eyes. He lets out a long-suffering sigh, humming a little, testing out his voice.

The only sounds he hears are running water and birds chirping. The ground under, and above, him feels like slightly jagged rock, damp soil and on other parts like fresh grass. The wind barely blows inside but it does make some of the grass shift and tickle him, so it should be okay to get up.

Zeno lifts his body up slowly from the cave floor. Zeno feels the soil above on his body start to trickle down as he turns into a sitting position. His legs are still buried under soil, although he is surprised his face was unburied. Not that it would have bothered him.

The cave he had crawled into was very secluded, on a mountain nobody ever visits because of just how hard it is to climb. It was almost always under the sun and surrounded by wisteria too, so no demons would accidentally stumble upon his slumbering body.

His eyes open slowly as he stands up to start walking towards the opening of the cave.

Zeno blinks and yawns. It was a good day to wake up from a rather long nap. The sun is bright and the forestry surrounding everything looks really nice, did it look this nice when he went to sleep, Zeno doesn't remember.

He glances around for the kasugaikarasu that had followed him here. Gaben is nowhere in sight, the crow had probably gone back to Ubuyashiki estate to wait for him to wake up. Zeno squeezes the amulet hanging heavy on his neck, not having been in Zeno's sight for years.

Just how long was he asleep, at least a few decades right Zeno assumes. Knowing that Kiyome, Kameki's son has probably already passed on stings mutely in a corner of his mind. He went to sleep almost right after leaving home and the plot starts moving around 1900.

So, he should have at least a 2 centuries to spend, Right?

Gentle Old EyesWhere stories live. Discover now