Well I thought I would make another world and put some Haiku and stories into it. Since I doubt anyone will read it anyhow. Prove me wrong if you want, tell me I'm wrong in a comment or something. Found this image somewhere; not mine.

The Sensei

How about a story? Oh? Well I'm going to tell it anyway! The title is lame but I have a beginning so I'm just going with it. This will be an ongoing thing so if anyone likes it let me know so I might continue.

It was a cold, wet, miserable day. The only thing that looked remotely warm were the steaming piles of horse dung that this years candidates stepped around on their way to the Tower. Out of these fifty, only a handful will finish the first year. The odds of making it all six and being asked to stay on to teach, then travel to open a new branch of the school; were near impossible. For some.

There were also the rumors of other, more secret jobs to be attained. Some said that the shadows around the Tower never slept. That an army of black-clad assassins and spies constantly filtered through having completed or going out to start their work. Always that story from a friend of a friend of course. Not that to many people were interested in sticking their nose in the Tower owners affairs. To his credit most people did not fear the Sensei; they did not need to. They knew he was strong, but also full of respect and kindness. A man of compassion to his neighbors; one who never turned those in need away from his school. Many would come for a free meal, not to leave for years having found a place where they were appreciated, and what little work they could do was met with admiration and praise. But they could tell, those who had stared into the depths of his icy blue eyes and thought they saw them fill with blood and horrible blackness for an instant. They could sense something terrible lurking in the depths of his soul, waging a constant war for control.


Hi. So this is some of my Haiku.

Blood writes well of life.
Sacred is the vow of this;
Your own holds the truth.

Froggies croaking spring,
What seemed dead will be reborn,
Cherish the new life.

Katana blade gleams
Inner light of its master;
Restraint can be strength.