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[color=silver]Daikaku Shrike[/color][/center]

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The mornings on the Daikaku shrine were peaceful and silent. Despite having an incredibly long history, the small shrine was not frequently visited, saving the occasional wandering monk and the few locals, usually elders who preferred the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of the Daikaku shrine compared to bigger, more popular shrines. Much like most of the frequent locals, Kōshin himself didn't mind the silence, but he had to admit that ever since his master had passed away, his morning routines were a bit more silent than they used to. 

[color=B8860B][i]"Namo Buddhaya. Namo Dharmaya. Namo Sanghaya."[/i][/color] Kōshin repeated, the rhythmic cadence of the mantra paying homage to the three jewels of Buddhism bringing calm and peace of mind as he lit the incense sticks in front of the Buddha statue, enshrined at the very center of the Daikaku shrine. 

The statue, having been carefully maintained through the years by many different monks, had been there for countless years, it's origin being shrouded in mystery. According to the stories passed down through the monks that took care of the Daikaku shrine, the statue was older than the very temple itself.

With slow and calm movements that were almost second nature to Kōshin, he continued his morning routine. From dusting and maintaining the central statue, sweeping the floors to taking care of the garden outside. Compared to some of his other, more 'serious' duties as the head of the Daikaku shrine, these felt peaceful and gratifying. At first, he thought them as mere, boring 'chores' when he was younger, but as the time passed and his master's teachings were absorbed by him, Kōshin came to appreciate the quiet repetition of these daily chores, which to him, brought a similar peace as the mantras chanted by him and his master on their morning prayers.

Finally done with his daily routine, Kōshin calmly walked to the peach tree in the far corner of the garden, sittind down on the grass by it's shadow. The silence of the shrine, being broken only by the delicate chirps of the sparrows playing and the calming sound of running water leading to small pond had a peaceful, almost ethereal feel to it. Right next to where Kōshin was sitting down, a small, simple stone pagoda marked the place where his master was buried with a few wooden memorial tablets, called itatoba, leaning against the peach tree. 

The inscription on the stone pagoda and the memorial tablets, aside from prayers, was a simple one, bearing only his master's title of Roshi along with his full name. Daikaku Hōren. Much like maintaining the shrine itself, sitting in quiet meditation near the place where his old teacher rested became a part of Kōshin's routine. A silent gesture of respect and gratitude for everything Hōren sensei had taught and done for him, only to be interrupted after some time when a ripe peach fell on top of his head.

Laughing, Kōshin grabbed the peach, taking out a big bite and savoring it's delicately sweet taste before he turned to the stone pagoda that marked his master's final resting place.

[color=B8860B]"[i]'Life is too precious not to be enjoyed.'[/i] right, Hōren sensei?"[/color] Kōshin said with a smile as he stood up, remembering the words his master often used to say whenever he thought Kōshin was taking things too seriously and forgot to simply enjoy the time he was given on this earth.

[color=B8860B]"Once again, thank you for everything Daikaku Hōren Roshi."[/color] Kōshin said, bowing as he gave a firm knock on the tree's trunk, making another ripe peach fall on his hand before putting it in front of his master's grave.

[color=B8860B]"You always hated this title, didn't you?"[/color] Kōshin said with a chuckle as he walked back to the temple.

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