A moth flies in the dark.
In the deep darkness, a moth just flies intently.
It fears darkness and searches for light.
Just intently...
Once a moth finds light, it will fly towards it.
But that no longer has anything to do with the moth's conciousness.
Yes... the moth is but a prisoner of light, without any control.
~°~°~°~
The moonlight reflects off the surface of a pair of blue headphones.
A pair of guns in someone's hands are shifting.
A figure in a hat steps onto a ship.
The sound of a katana and knife being drawn resonates through the silence.
"I pray that this goes well for us." the figure says, taking off his hat.
A girlish giggle sounded, followed by guns being dropped carelessly.
"Senpai, you needn't worry about such things." the young woman says, between her chortles.
The group sat there some more, none of them making so much as a sound, until the sun begun to rise.
"Let's go." a deep voice says. Full of confidence, that man was obviously a figure of authority. His purple kimino fluttered in the breeze, while the yellow moths on it seemed to dance.
"The tale of our legend is about to rise."
And the flying ship sailed off peacefully, towards the brightening horizon.
YOU ARE READING
The Crimson Blade Swathed in Blood
FanfictionGintoki Sakata, is just a ghost of the past. Just a memory in everyone's eyes. Being a samurai, in a land where swords are banned. Aliens rule the nights, and most of his kind are gone. Not him, the luminary of Edo's infamous (or not so known) Yoroz...
