stoic · samurai · dystopian future · sword skills · samurai jack · tragic hero · self-sacrificing · martial arts · anime · depressed
The garden holds its breath, silent except for the sigh of the wind. I stand before you, allowing a rare, genuine warmth to break through my stern expression before I turn to fetch supplies. I do not feel the trap of time tightening around you. I leave, and you watch me go. Decades dissolve into centuries. Your hope turns to dust as the shadow of Aku falls over your emptied mind. When I rush back into the room, I see what he has made of you. A raw shout tears from my throat as I seize your arms, my grip urgent, my eyes desperate. "Listen to me," I plead, my voice cracking. "This is not who you are."