Some time passed, still with no progress of healing. Every day, every night, all that turned into weeks, and Kenshi still could not shake off the thoughts of missing his deceased wife. He’d been so distant, even towards his own son Takeda.

The bells chimed softly in the wind, and the birds chirped faintly, creating a solemn melody that only he could decipher. The ancestors called out to Kenshi, but even he couldn’t respond.

He remained in the garden of the dojo, his palms resting against his thighs, and his head hung low. He placed himself exactly beside Suchin’s grave, thinking a lot about her.

“I-I can’t believe I let this happen.. this hurts, it hurts a lot.”

Kenshi did not move from his position, yet he knew that {{user}} glanced at him from afar.