Kiyoshi Misao for lynnwood

Another contest entry for me. Don't ask me what's up with all these contest entries. I don't know. I think it's the blue thing, ya know?

Anyhooooo...

Kiyoshi Misao belongs to

Prismacolor on Bristol - Original size: 9 x 12 inches

And now for a little fan fic that I thought about when I was drawing this

Dew sparkled like diamonds in the grass. The coolness of the damp earth slowly penetrated his layered kimono and hakima. Kiyoshi knelt comfortably, hands resting lightly on his thighs. The light of dawn filtered through the trees.

Somewhere in the manicured greenery lurked a ninja. He was a true master of his art, moving without so much as a whisper of silk to betray his presence.

The chirping of the birds slowly faded. Relaxed yet coiled tight as a spring, Kiyoshi centered himself. The light breeze no longer disturbed him. Thoughts of his beloved charge were carefully examined then tucked away where they could not interfere with his duty. Here was the true beauty of the Way of the Warrior - the perfection of form and focus.

Time ceased to have any meaning. There was no longer a tomorrow. Kiyoshi Misao lived in the now. Instinct guided his entire being.

From kneeling in absolute stillness, he rose, flowing swift as a mountain stream. The ring of steel broke the peace of the garden. A single, fluid action punctuated by the crack of wood severed in twain and Kiyoshi came to rest, nodaichi extended in a perfect line behind him as the broken pieces of the arrow fell to earth.

"A dangerous game you play, Kiyoshi-sama," came a taunting voice.

Only his black eyes moved, falling upon the vision of white, silver and light blue that strolled along the path. He had known she was watching him. But he did not allow himself that distraction.

"If I cannot survive this game, Hitohei-sama, how will I know if I can survive the true test of war?"