Seventeen

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Chapter seventeen:
"Master Tokito's strength"

Chapter seventeen:"Master Tokito's strength"

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[☁]

The horrible reminder of how you cried in front of your master tortured you. You had been locked in your room dying out of shame after that episode of your life. You had hit your head against the wall so many times that Muichiro had to knock on the door because the noise had taken him out of his dream world at three in the morning.

Even after three days, you were honestly unable to look him in the eyes, or hands, or any part of him. Muichiro was puzzled by the come back of the shy [Y/N] that you were at the beginning, but he didn't mention anything.

That same week, he began to take you to the missions that his crow communicated to him. The purpose was to get you used to the process of receiving and completing missions, as well as seeing a real battle up close.

At first you questioned whether he had hit his head against a wall as well, but he seriously assured you that you would not be in danger if you kept your distance from them. Not wanting to continue arguing —since his presence had become suffocating— you accepted.

Therefore, on the fifth day of avoiding being near that death trap called Muichiro, you would have to go on your first mission with him.

The place was an abandoned village. The ceilings were half collapsed or leaky and the wood of the doors was beginning to rot. Under the dim moonlight and grayish clouds that covered the brightness of the stars, the path in which both walked was a battered soil stained with a dry substance that your master soon identified as blood.

You both followed the trail, all the way to a better kept shack than the others, in which a pair of ragged clothes hung on a string, emitting the smell of cheap soap. Screeching the door open, Muichiro placed his dominant hand on the handle of his Nichirin sword. Mindful of his surroundings, he set a foot on the wood that creaked under the weight. It was awfully quiet, dark.

If you didn't have a good view, you would have saved yourself the urge of vomiting, since you could distinguish the dead and fresh body of a lady; but even if you hadn't seen it, the foul-smelling edor of blood that you were so familiar with was enough evidence for the nightmare that had taken place.

It was probably a humble lady who had seen this place as a decent refuge. And she died in the most grotesque and unfair way possible.

Your face darkened as your hands formed fists. From the depths of your stomach, hatred spread and wanted to take you over. You spat on the ground holding back your emotions, following Muichiro's every move carefully.

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