They met during the spring, when the land comes to life and emotions bloom with the flowers. The wandering samurai looking for a purpose traveled the path lined on both sides with cherry blossoms, emerging from the long sleep of winter, changing to the vivid pink of life.
Among the falling petals, a splash of crimson stained the path of the samurai. It was a fox, a fox with a pure white pelt, struck by the arrow of a passing hunter. Forgotten and left to die, the poor creature struggled to live, gasping and shivering from the pain. The samurai pitied the fox, yet did not stop; passing by a quaking keen halted his footsteps. Turning around he saw the fox looking at him, no pleading nor fear, only looking. He could not leave the creature to die like this. Drawing his sword, the samurai prepared to end the pitiful animals life, ending it’s suffering and bringing a swift death as was only fair. Steadying his blade, the samurai again was drawn to the eyes of the fox, gazing up at him, holding acceptance and resignation. For reasons unknown to the samurai, this shook him, he could not bring himself to end this creatures life. Sheathing his sword he took up the injured fox and brought it to a nearby town where he dressed it’s wounds and slowly nursed the animal back to health. As spring passed the fox grew in strength and in health, cared for under the samurai’s watchful eye.
When summer arrived the fox no longer needed the care of the samurai, for it had wholly recovered and could run and jump with ease. The samurai, having taken care of the fox, smiled, said his goodbyes and turned to continue on his eternal journey. The fox watched his shrinking back, saddened, for she had fallen in love with the kind samurai and thus decided to follow him on his journey. However she did not tell the samurai, and watched him from the shadows as he trudged along, with this she was happy.
Along his journey, the fox saw the samurai meet many opponents looking to defeat him so as to claim a name for themselves. Some were weak and some were strong, but the samurai never yielded and always found victory before resuming his journey. His honor and steadfast nature in his duels endeared him even more to his unknown companion. However, one fight he did not win, one young warrior confronted and challenged him, claiming to avenge the death of his brother the samurai had slain some years ago. The samurai accepted, in moment of arrogance believing the man to be an easy victory, he was sorely mistaken. His opponent was much more skilled than he had expected, quickly outmaneuvering him, the challenger got under his guard and slashed at him savagely.
The sword bit into the samurai deeply, cutting skin and muscle near down to bone. Pain taking over his senses, he collapsed in the dirt, waiting for the final thrust that would end his life. That thrust, however, never came, The samurai looked up to see the young warrior sheathing his blade and turn his back on the dying man.
“You do not deserve the death of an honorable man,” the warrior declared, “Instead you shall die slowly, cursing the day you killed my brother and reaped my vengeance,” and strode away, leaving naught but dust, shame, and despair for the samurai. Was he really to die this way, on the roadside, slowly, without even the strength to end his own life honorably? The samurai closed his eyes and waited for the embrace of death.
It was then that the fox he had cared for, appeared before him, for she had seen his duel and anguished at his loss. Hidden in the shadow of the trees, she clad herself in the form of a beautiful women and approached him. Kneeling down, she began to gently tend to his wounds, just as he had for her.
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Under her tender care, the samurai slowly began to heal, her touch mending both his wounded body and broken spirit. Eventually, the samurai was brought to full health and turned to continue his endless journey. The fox’s melancholy at the samurai’s departure was abated by the pleasure of his well being. Before he left however, he turned against the rising sun, and with a soft smile, promised to return to her again. Her eyes brimmed with tears of happiness and told him she would wait. Secretly smiling to herself, for unbeknownst to the samurai, she would accompany him.
As time went by, the samurai continued on his wandering journey, that which to him was endless, stopping by whenever he passed through to see and meet with the woman once again. Never did he realize she was his invisible companion, always following and watching over him. The years, however, passed by, piling upon the samurai’s back and lining his face with a weathered frown, and yet, he always showed his soft smile whenever he saw the woman, her waiting figure bringing peace to his being. The women never revealed to the man about her true nature as the fox, for fear that he would come to reject her. In return the samurai never revealed the secret of his body, failing him as he aged, and his shaking hands, which with increasing difficulty, wielded his sword to protect himself.
Sadly however, all things must at some point come to an end, and so too did this. As the samurai, burdened with his years, went to visit the women once more, he crossed paths with his last opponent. It was the warrior that had defeated him so long ago. Upon learning that the samurai had survived despite his injuries had taken off to hunt him down, seeking vengeance for his brother whom the samurai had killed.
There were no words, no warning, as soon as the two laid eyes upon each other, they knew and launched into a furious exchange of blows, matching each other strike for strike. It was the samurai’s age that defeated him, a failed step and a slow swing led to a grievous wound upon the samurai, before landing the final blow on his opponent. This time however, he did not collapse, he stood uncertainly and using his blade as a support, began to take shaky steps down the path. He needed to meet with her one last time, then he could be at peace.
He wandered, for how long he did not know, with heavy footsteps, the smell of his own blood a metallic tang in the air, mixing with the scent of cherry blossoms. He had stumbled on to the path where so many years ago he had first met the fox and saved it’s life. His eyes began to blur and refused to focus as he fell to the ground. In the pink tinged trees though there were another pair of eyes, ones that had been watching him all this time and now filled with tears. The fox jumped down and ran to him, assuming the same form she had been taking for many years and that he knew so well. She took his head and cradled it in her lap as the blood flowed from his body staining the path and fallen petals a dark crimson. And as the blossoms fell, three words were spoken between them as the samurai closed his eyes for the final time. Three words that held so much weight, and yet so little power. “I Love You.”