Teary Goro

Diary

Teary Goro never planned on getting stabbed on Mount Koriyoka, but then again he never plans much of anything past the next drink and the next apology he owes somebody's ghost. He'd gone up there to slap Raiku the Stoner sober, or at least slap him with something resembling old samurai conviction, and instead caught a blade in the ribs while Raiku just stood there squinting like the sun owed him money. Goro laughed as it happened, actual laughing, tears already tracking down through the dust on his face before the pain even landed, because that's the only ceremony left in him now, grief wearing a grin like a borrowed mask. He sat afterward holding his own wound like it was somebody smaller than him, somebody he had to carry, and wondered what could have been if he'd kept his blade sheathed and his discipline intact instead of chasing one more petty slap for pride's sake. He tried, right there bleeding on the mountain, to swear off the whole business of vengeance and vice, and by the time he limped back down he'd already broken that promise twice and made a new one he wouldn't keep either.