Miroku sat on the grassy slope at the edge of Kaede’s village, kwa himself. The weather was perfect. The air smelled wonderful. The soft green nyasi poked up through his bare toes, tickling the topside of his foot.
But the gorgeous setting wasn’t the reason for his ear-splitting smile, au the silly, nonsensical drinking songs that hummed off his lips, nor was it responsible for the fact that for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t wake up that morning contemplating his own death...
Truth was, it could have been cold, stormy, and lightning could have struck his...well, maybe...
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