Board Thread:The World/@comment-24728353-20191221004914/@comment-44207700-20191221055911

Hanzō Kokushin

It was a lonely night in the Kokushin household. It was the end of the day, a time in which many settled but on this night it was only a beginning. Secluded behind a library of books, Hanzō quietly unfolded a letter in his hand. His red eyes trailed over the letter, holding it close to the candle light that was next to him. Little of his image could be seen, as if an unnatural darkness hung in there and threatened to choke out what light remained. A gasp escaped Hanzō's pursed lips, and his expression turned his boyish visage into something grim.

'𝘈𝘯 𝘈-𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯? 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳,' Hanzō thought to himself as he scoured the contents of the letter. Now wondering if this might've been a mistaked letter that was meant to be sent to his father, someone much more prepared for something like this.

'𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵! ... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 ...'

Hanzō bit his lip in anguish, when he heard a noise from behind him, "Father?" He reluctantly answered. Quickly, he moved towards his candle light and blew it out. Darkness enveloped the scene, and Hanzō appeared no more.

The next day was to be a good one. Hanzō could be found outside his house's door, checking in on all of his equipment. Before he left, he turned back inside and retrieved his full card set. He began to shuffle all the cards together, mixing them and dividing them before repeating the same process. Once they were thoroughly mixed, Hanzō took his hand and held it ominously over the deck. He closed his eyes for a second, and for a second he didn't seem to breathe. With hesitance he took the first card and placed it on a nearby table. Then he took the three other cards on the top of the deck and set them below the first card. He placed his hand on the first card, while his other nervously tapped away at the table he was using. With a quick flip he revealed the first card. The Moon, an ominous mystery thats contents were only known to Hanzō. Then he flipped the second. Three of Swords. Hanzō's hand cringed at its sight, but perhaps Hanzō was biased in its meaning. Hanzō flipped the third card. Death. An unwelcome card to the untrained eye, but its true meaning held something much deeper and real to the world. Finally, his hand rested on the fourth card. He paused for a second before flipping it over. The Tower. Another troubling card that saw Hanzō brace his lips as if waiting to be punched. With his reading finished, he took all the cards and separated his special form of the Major Arcana from the regular cards. Without a word, he turned around and pulled on the collar of his hood, giving shade to his eyes as he bolted out of the front door with all of his equipment either in hand or pocketed somewhere close to his heart.

Once he arrived at the gates, it seemed as if Hanzō had finally slowed down some. He saw a small group ahead of him, a young boy with a boisterous voice was introducing himself to an older, red-haired teenager. He looked around, not sure if he was in the right place. He approached the group and let out an abrupt cough, announcing that he was there.

"You all wouldn't be a part of the same group that's on an A-rank mission to retrieve a man named Jiro Shimura, would you?" Hanzō asked with some reluctance in his voice.