Tsuchimaru gazed at the blossoms surrounding him, their petals defying the cold grip of winter. The air was crisp, yet the flowers thrived as if summer's warmth embraced them. He took a deep breath, contemplating the strange harmony of nature in this peculiar village. "Why do you bloom so brightly in this endless winter?" he mused aloud, as if expecting the blossoms to whisper back their secrets.
Hayato, His brother, watching from a distance, glared at him, the snow creating a shroud of redness not too far away from Tsuchimaru. (Tch.. Acting as if life is easy--as if life itself isn't able to affect him.) he thought, the redness of his hair and eyes vibrant. Tsuchimaru remained unaffected, still humble, and questioning the life of the blossoms, his gaze melancholic, unreadable. lingering in his mind like a riddle unsolved. "It feels as if they hold the answer to the village's perpetual winter," he muttered, his blue haori spilling onto the snow around him like a lake amiss the endless amount of snow.
Tsuchimaru traced his fingers over the blossoms, caressing the warm glow of the petals. Hayato squinted over at Tsuchimaru's peace, the familiar sight of his peace toxic to him. "Pathetic." he muttered, Disgust flowing alongside animosity. "..." Tsuchimaru 's gaze turned to the slight sound caught up with the winds, his eyes catching a walking figure in red walking away.
Tsuchimaru closed his eyes, feeling the presence of something beyond the physical. "He's angry once more..." he murmured, as if speaking to the flowers in front of him. "Why..." the blossoms are a reminder of his questions.
Tsuchimaru sensed as the villagers marveled at the sight of the contented Tsuchimaru. How content he was, how not a soul in the village can understand him.
Tsuchimaru formed a slight smile at the sight of children running up to him to play amongst the blossoms, their laughter ringing like a melody he hasn't heard in a long times. Tsuchimaru reflected, feeling a sense of fulfillment. "Be careful now." Tsuchimaru simply reminded.
