Lin Qing glanced back at the dozen or so samurai still standing dumbfounded where they were, unsure what to do.
They had been behind the others and a step too slow to follow their lord in "dying honorably."
"Aren't you leaving?" Lin Qing asked.
The samurai looked at one another.
Some dropped to their knees and, facing the direction where the Daimyo had died, committed seppuku.
Others turned and fled.
Only one remained. He walked up to Lin Qing and bowed nervously.
"My lord, may I take the Daimyo's head back with me?"
Lin Qing waved a hand. "Go ahead."
The samurai bowed deeply to Lin Qing again, took off his clothes, wrapped them around the Daimyo's head, then turned and left with his sword.
It was over.
Lin Qing tossed aside the sword in his hand, glanced at his filthy clothes, and decided to go back and take a good bath.
Just then, the sound of footsteps drew near. Lin Qing turned around.
Mei Terumi threw herself into his arms.
Lin Qing awkwardly spread his arms, unsure what to do. Should he push her away, or hug her back? Suddenly, he heard a faint sob.
Hot tears fell against his chest as Mei Terumi choked out,
"Thank goodness... It's over. Thank you, Lin Qing..."
Lin Qing's awkwardness gradually faded. "Yeah, it's over."
The Village of the Bloody Mist was over.
Not just the Village of the Bloody Mist in Kirigakure, but the tragedy of the Land of Water as well.
The Daimyo had three sons. Whoever took his place would give the cause of their father's death careful thought and rein in their own desires.
This wasn't an embrace born of passion.
It was a celebration between survivors who had passed through hell together, stepping over a demon's corpse