Ficly

No Soul Who Has Ever Worn It's Tattered Grace Has Escaped

653 souls pursed their aether to pay the way for this little girl to wear the head band.
an awkward heavy sword
cutesy little kitten hands
Her obi stretched across a middle school uniform
while pigtails draw crosshairs on the number one head band
colored slips of paper hall passes,
nurses notes
tumbleweed
above the four square battlefield
The pigtailed pugilist, pauses Mitsurigi’s blade at the throat of Afro and monologues,
“This scene was played out millions of years before these seas rolled.”
an aged practiced forward
swords flash down
how long can a three foot tall block hold
against its tattered grace
How many times has a middle school samurai dueled a God
a cell phone in her coat pocket glowed
and swallowed the sword mid jangle
Her soul and perky face freed from it’s earthly prison.
youth fierce innocence risen
a small body
soul missin
he took her small face in his wrinkled dry hand
his sword resolute in the other
rest little oni-chan
for your head now wears the Number One Headband.
Afroooooooooooooo

View this story's 29 comments.