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[X] An ancient hermit and swordsman watching the clouds

---

"So the apprentice returns..."

The master is a tall and lean man, not unlike the farmers who toil daily in the fields. He is dressed plainly in white and green garments of Eastern design. His long grey-white hair is tied back neatly, done in the fashion of the ancient warriors of the East. The old one strokes his beard thoughtfully as he looks him over.

Vincent shivers as he waits for him to speak. The master closes his eyes, but he knows that he isn't resting. He can feel the old man's aura spread forth across the field. Peaceful, yet sublime, he knows that this master can tear his opponents apart without flinching while folding a paper crane in his other hand. He remembers the first time they met - he did exactly that to some bandits that tried to rob him on the road.

The master never said why he took him as his apprentice. And he never asked. He was still a child back then - a lone orphan in a violent world. He did what he needed to survive, and when he saw a chance at redemption, he took it without question.

"You've grown stronger, but perhaps not much wiser," the master whispers.

They travelled together for a year. He served as his helper and apprentice. The old one was his master and trainer. They encountered strange things and dangerous beings, but he took it all without question. As a child, he had no knowledge of the wider world, so he could not form the words to make up any question.

"M-Master?" he asks aloud.

"Already forgotten my name? No matter, we must complete our business."

"Our business?"

"I have come to collect on your debt."

The master takes a single step closer and looks at Vincent straight in the eye. The old one moves his hand closer to one of his Eastern battle blades. Vincent's eyes widen, but he can't move. His mouth is frozen.

"Do not worry, for your master is a fair judge. This will suffice as payment for touching my daughter."

A flash of light. Suddenly, Vincent can move again. He looks up at the master. The old one has relaxed his stance. He looks down at his hands. Vincent blinks. They are no longer attached to his arms.

He stands in shock, staring blankly at his cleanly cut wrists. His hands have fallen to the ground with a soft, meaty thud. Blood is oozing from his open veins and arteries. The exposed bone and marrow is a ghastly white against the blood. Somehow, the pain hasn't registered into his brain yet, but the horror...

---

"U-Uwaaaaaaah!" he cries aloud.

Vincent quickly sits up. He can feel cold sweat roll down his cheeks. His breathing is ragged and uneven. A drop of sweat falls down coldly onto his clammy hands. His hands?

He checks his hands quickly. After making sure that they are still attached, he surveys the area. Looks like he is back in his room at Hakugyokurou. He takes a moment to check his other limbs, and he sighs in relief to see that he has no other injuries.

Someone rushes into the room.

[ ] Youmu
[ ] Yuyuko
[ ] Komachi
[ ] Chen