The Day of Thunder

[Saru Ranmaru]

There was nothing obviously wrong at the beginning of Ranmaru's dream, at least for an ordinary person. Indeed an ordinary person might have been entranced by the woman who meandered through her vibrant garden. The flowers had grown in well under her delicate care but none could compare to her beauty. Perhaps not even Doji herself could compare to her.

"Why have you summoned me here?" Ranmaru asked, hands already gripping his swords.

The gardener looked back at him, her smile one that could shatter most men's hearts. It faded away once she saw the blades. But like any proper lady, her poise did not shatter at the sign of a threat. "There is no need for that. All of your questions will be answered in due time."

Ranmaru's patience had run out long ago. He strode forward and seized her neck. To his surprise, she did not lash out to claw his eyes out. Instead, her dainty neck felt like it might crack from the slightest of pressure. He pulled away, unable to look her in the eye as he sputtered out, "I'm sorry." Seiyūdō, at its core, was not about harming women. He wanted to protect them, protect men too, protect humanity as a whole.

"Who raised you to act like this?" the gardener asked between coughs. Bruising on her neck, redness in her eyes, she struggled to maintain the same aura of grace. He might as well have started tearing out the camellias and stomp them into the dirt. "Your mother never taught you how to treat a lady?"

This time, Ranmaru managed to reign back his temper. That did not mean he would allow slander, however. "You speak of a woman you do not know. She is a creator, nurturer of life and crafter of great works." He pulled his daisho out by the sheaths and held them out. "Behold her finest creations. I only hope that I can prove to be worthy of them." That meant so much more than his skill at wielding them, he'd come to realize.

"So your mother has accomplished much. I intend no disrespect with the following: she is not infallible." The gardener bowed her head. "Something to consider. But far more pressing: what about your father?"

"If you are impressed by my mom, then my dad will do so one hundred times more." He did not even know which story to start with. His mother had told him so many stories about his father's great deeds, all to inspire him.

But then the gardener gave voice to the doubt within. "And yet, he never came back for you, did he? Nor for her."

"A warrior meets his end eventually." Death on a battlefield had never scared Ranmaru once.

"That's not what happened with him though, is it?" The gardener looked over to a gazebo where a strange silhouette of a man awaited. At times, he was feeble, a man far past his prime. Then he would shift to be a hulking figure, clad entirely in metal somehow. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" She took his hand. "Do not be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Ranmaru said through gritted teeth. And yet his feet dragged as she led him towards the gazebo.

Before he could even speak a word, the mysterious man sprang forward and drove his katana straight through the gardener's heart. The pain on her face, though, did not seem physical but instead regret. "What will you choose to believe?" she asked before her body dissolved into a pleasant mist.

The simple choice would be to battle the murderer, labeled as nothing more than a chaotic act. But his mind intuited that it was not so simple. Ranmaru drew both of his blades and shifted effortlessly through his stances, breath steadying as he honed in on his opponent. His father. "How you treated my mother cannot be forgiven." He would not have resorted to violence in the waking world; that would have been a bit excessive. But here within his dreams, it was more of a rejection of him.

"What a pathetic little man you are," the enemy said, growing larger with each word. That only revealed how little this nightmare truly understood of him.

"And yet you fear me." Ranmaru grinned and unleashed a flurry of slices, a hurricane of attacks few could hope to survive. By the end of it, he was the only one left in the garden. He sensed that the gardener would return someday, not very soon. And so the taste of victory soured as he realized that all of this would wilt away.

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D4-D5 Sleep Event Roll #1: Etiquette / Willpower TN 25, VP for +1k1 | 7k4 ⇒ 21 (TN: 25)

D4-D5 Sleep Event Roll #2: Perform: Oratory / Awareness TN 25, VP for +1k1 | 5k4 ⇒ 40 (TN: 25)

D4-D5 Sleep Event Roll #3, Kenjutsu (Katana) / Agility TN 40, Full Attack Stance, FR from Last Roll, VP for +1k1 | 10k4+5 ⇒ 42 (TN: 40)

[Saru Ranmaru]

OOC: Whoops, misread the event. Reset continuity is a go:

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There was nothing obviously wrong at the beginning of Ranmaru's dream, at least for an ordinary person. Indeed an ordinary person might have been entranced by the woman who meandered through her vibrant garden. The flowers had grown in well under her delicate care but none could compare to her beauty. Perhaps not even Doji herself could compare to her.

"Why have you summoned me here?" Ranmaru asked, hands already gripping his swords.

The gardener looked back at him, her smile one that could shatter most men's hearts. It faded away once she saw the blades. But like any proper lady, her poise did not shatter at the sign of a threat. "There is no need for that. All of your questions will be answered in due time."

Ranmaru's patience had run out long ago. He strode forward and seized her neck. To his surprise, she did not lash out to claw his eyes out. Instead, her dainty neck felt like it might crack from the slightest of pressure. He pulled away, unable to look her in the eye as he sputtered out, "I'm sorry." Seiyūdō, at its core, was not about harming women. He wanted to protect them, protect men too, protect humanity as a whole.

"Still you reject my help." Her eyes watered, although he could intuit that it was not due to her bruised neck. "Remain strong. This will all be over soon." She started fading way, becoming solid for one last remark. "I meant it will resolve soon, not that you'll die." Then she turned into dust and blew away in the wind. Was still super foreboding though.

Not as grim as the garden wilting away around him. Ranmaru gritted his teeth, certain that his burly hands would not be able to tend to them at all. By the end of the night, all that was left were pitiful husks, him most of all.