The vibrant feeling of the summer sun hits my skin like a wave as I enter upon the sacred grounds. A beautiful garden surrounding a monastery containing beings of different stories who had all come with one goal; to find peace. But unfortunately, that’s not what I was here for, I was here to train and collect knowledge. Nothing more and nothing less. My heart did not long for retirement, because being a warrior isn’t something you can retire from.

As I make my way through the shimmering gates and past fountains. Many fountains. I finally arrive in the epicenter of my home for the next few months. Once I found the master I’d find the training I need his knowledge and defence expertise would definitely help me.

_What if he rejects me? Sends me away? Sees me for the scheming liar, in this “hero” game for the money— who I truly am?_

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My mind fills with doubts as quickly as it had once with confidence, the man is a 267 year old monk. I was pretty sure he could detect a fraud when he saw one, and I was painfully aware I was a fraud. . . Alas, only time would tell whether or not I’d be sent away or let in. Presides, I heard Monks were accepting? It would be pretty out of character for the wisest of them to just turn me away without hearing me out. Right?

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My trusty yet rusty old spear lands with a clink atop a concrete wall and the image of children, punching and kicking the air with seemingly perfect sync comes into vision. Pink trees blossoming, monks wandering. And watching over it all? The two-hundred years old master that everyone who was anyone in the warrior industry knew about. A smile of anticipation forms on my face as I speed walk closer, a small sweat following quickly after as I realise I don’t have a real plan.

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_“Excuse me, Mr Būshi?”_

_I call out_

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The old man turns to me and simply nods, his grey goatee blowing in the winds, he still has alot of hair left on his head too—_ he looks pretty young for someone who is quarter a millennia. _

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He cocks his head slightly, but doesn’t look surprised, only curious and calm. . . His eyes and body language not changing a bit. Despite my distinguishable attire and foreign appearance. A new experience that earns an involuntary half smile from me, followed by a stirring feeling that just as quickly switches back to the solemn expression I typically and voluntarily wear.

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“Umm. . .” “I am Otoka Han— I am looking to find myself. I heard you could help with that, Sir?”__

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i silently prayed he’d buy it and welcome me with open arms. He stares at me for a moment too long, as if analyzing the contents of my soul.__

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“I’ve met many just like you boy, come with me.. I’ll show you around”

He says, beginning a walk. Making me aware of the fact that he doesn’t use a walking stick. Which is quite an impressive feat for someone happens to look so, well, so frail.

Regardless, it seemed as if he bought my reasoning for being here. Or maybe he didn’t care, maybe he believes he could help me despite my true motives. But I had my reasons, and I didn’t plan to let a stepping stone stop me.

The old Wise Monk leads me through a tour of the building, the more I explore the more I see the beauty of this place. The gardens packed to the brim with orchids, the ponds, benches and dining halls, occupied by the old and wise and the young and naive alike, even the washrooms looked perfect. This was the first time I’d seen a real home, a real family, the things I’d missed throughout my entire life. I begin to pick at my nails, not casual picking either, excessive, painful picking that had caused bleeding too many times. An old defense mechanism I was barely self aware of to detract me from the real issues I’m having.

I shut my eyes briefly, calm my nerves (or suppress them) and continue following the monk around the Monastery. Why do my emotions play up at all the wrong times? What if this old man sees me for how weak and vulnerable I can be and decides I’m not worth his or anyone’s time? A reasonable conclusion it’d be too. . .

My breaths continue shaky and deep, my thoughts running wild with the limitless humiliating possibilities despite my desperate attempts to surpress them, I just want to melt into the ground— I’m spiralling.

“So. . . You want to train under me, Otoka?”

Luckily, I’m pulled out of my panic attack by the sound of that hoarse old voice again, I’d been trapped in my mind so long I didn’t even have the time to see the rest of the place. Because we’re back at where I came in. And for what? Because I was triggered by _what_?

“Uh. Y-Yes sir.”

Did I just stutter?

“Yes sir”

I correct myself.

“Then you’re welcome… you’re welcome with open arms.”

I hear the audible sigh leave my mouth as those words leave his, atleast that journey wasn’t for nothing. I’m here now, and I going to gain knowledge, knowledge is power. It’ll all be worth it in the end. I force a smile, but for some reason I don’t think it looks very convincing from a third person perspective.

“Great. Thank you, Sir. It’s an honour. I’m honoured.”

I say.

“Let me show you to your living quarters.”

He replies with a reassuring smile.

It takes few hours to get used to sleeping comfortably, hours turn into days, days turn into months, months turn into years and years turn into. . . Home. It wasn’t easy, it was long and painful abandoning my career, finding peace in the simple, overcoming my anxieties. But I made it and I’m home.

**_THANK YOU FOR READING. IF YOU READ THIS WHOLE THING ILY <3_**