Chapter 4: Late!

Shun's sneakers padded softly against the asphalt as he jogged down the mansion driveway towards his front door. The moon, low and luminous, cast a silvery film over the cityscape. He was running late, and he knew a showdown awaited him beyond his front door.

Taking a moment to steel himself, Shun pushed through the entrance, stepping on into the underlit hallway. The air buzzed with tension, the silence only broken by the mechanical hum of an old wall clock, each second a jarring reminder of his delayed return.

The living room was a play of light and shadows, a single table lamp throwing elongated silhouettes on the walls. Shun's father, Nobushia, sat rigidly on their worn-out couch, his usually soft gaze now a hard stare. His father was a domineering muscular bronzed man with short dreads laying to the sides. His is eyes were a dark shade of brown, almost black if the sun didn't sit the right way you couldn't tell it was even brown.

"Shun," Nobushia's words cut through the quiet, a verbal strike. "What's your excuse for being this late?"

Shun's heart thudded in his chest as he searched for the right words. "Dad, I know I'm late I'm sorry. There was a problem and I couldn't ignore it. I was the only one able solve it."

Nobushia sighed, his disappointment clear. "Shun, it sounds like you did something honorable, but for the sake of our family. I hope you didn't rush in without thinking..." "I didn't rush in without thinking dad, I was protecting a friend" shun interrupted getting ahead of himself. Now switching to a more respectful tone realizing who he cut off "Hiroshi was completely defenseless and I couldn't just watch him end up hurt." shun pleaded.

Nobushia sighed "Ok I'm listening, Give me the details and leave any fluff." Said Nobushia, looking for his son to provide clarity on this situation. He began to sit in his favorite vintage lounge chair. Nobushia's stern gaze still eminent, directed toward his son. " Ok Explain," he demanded expressing a bit of impatience for the excuse.

Shun began to tell his father about Jason, the monster of a wrestling prodigy who enjoyed injuring his opponent. He then went on elaborating that Jason had attacked his friend asking for compensation over an accident. He spoke about how he had stood up for Hiroshi and the fight that had ensued.

"Jason was simply overpowering. He had Hiroshi beat up pretty badly. I had to stop him, so I used a few restricted methods to counter his wrestling. I also wanted it to be known that If I hadn't made an advance dad, I would have been hurt real bad." Shun confessed, his voice trembling slightly. Shun's parents were against any use offensive tactics outside of the home or school dojo.

Shun's father listened to him explain his situation. "Your heart's in the right place my boy, but courage without wisdom can lead to a mess. It's up to you to take responsibility and be prepared for whatever comes behind your decisions especially If you want to be a protector. "

Shun felt his father's words hit home. He knew his instincts to intervene, to protect, were a part of him, but they were also the part that caused friction with his parents teachings.

"Dad, I...," Shun began, his voice barely audible before pausing . The silence stretched out, amplifying his unease. He swallowed, then continued. "Even in the future I feel that I can't just stand by when someone's in trouble. In the end It's not me being rash... it's me doing what I feel is right."

Nobushia listened silently, his gaze trained on his son. Once Shun finished talking, he finally spoke. "Your skills are a gift son, with them you have the ability to do so much more. With that being said, I'm proud that you stepped up and protected a friend. Also In the future, I'll advise that you at least call before returning this late "

Shun nodded, understanding the weight of his father's words. His father was right. Shun also felt that he was indeed gifted, yet still too inexperienced with handling certain situations. Situations that demanded not just bravery, but insight and restraint. It was a balance he had to find. "It's all a part of training and tonight was a tough lesson" he thought as he exited the family room.

After a long evening shun felt retreating to his room was the next action to take. Shun lazily climbed the stairs. Half heartedly walked through the wide dark hallway, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. " All of these thoughts because of helping?" Shun questioned.

He then sought solace within the confines of his room, the weight of his father's words settled upon him like a shroud of anticipation. The room, dimly lit by a solitary lamp, offered a sanctuary from the outside world, its walls adorned with faded posters that bore witness to Shun's eclectic tastes. Shun's room closed around him, a familiar cocoon of solitude where the shadows seemed to lean in, whispering secrets only he could hear. The solitary lamp flickered, casting a wavering glow that danced across the walls, illuminating fragments of Shun's own self-doubt.

"Why is it," Shun murmured to himself, his voice a mere breath in the stillness, "that every decision feels like a step along a precipice?" The room, in its silent watch, offered no reply. Shun's eyes drifted to the aged posters, each a relic of a past certainty, a time when right and wrong seemed as clear as the colors that now faded from their surfaces.

He sank onto his bed, the springs groaning in protest, a tired symphony for a tired soul. His hands clasped behind his head, fingers entwining in the thicket of his thoughts.

"Should I have just... walked away?" The words hung in the air, a specter of his conscience challenging him. "Could I have walked away?" His heart, a relentless drum, answered with the thrum of adrenaline that still lingered in his veins.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls inching closer with the weight of his father's disappointment. Nobushia, a man whose strength was etched into the lines of his face, whose wisdom was hard-won through years of discipline and sacrifice. Shun yearned for that certainty, the unshakeable knowledge of when to act and when to hold back.

"But isn't that what life is?" Shun's voice cracked, a faltering note in the quiet. "A series of... messy, human decisions?" The posters bore silent witness to his inner turmoil, their faded heroes a reminder of a simpler black-and-white morality that real life seldom offered.

Shun could feel the push and pull of his own nature, the protector's spirit wrestling with the careful son. The duality of his existence was a dance, each step an attempt to balance the teachings of his father with the visceral pull of his instincts.

His gaze fell to his hands, the knuckles still bruised from the day's confrontation. Each mark was a testament to his choice, a choice to stand up for a friend. "Was it pride?" he questioned, tracing the lines of his own skin as if they held the answers. "Or was it something more?"

It wasn't just the physical scars that marked him; it was the weight of consequence, the understanding that actions ripple outward, touching lives, altering futures. Shun could hear the echo of his father's words, "courage without wisdom," and he knew, knew with a certainty that ran bone-deep, that he was still learning to find the balance between the two.

He stood up, pacing the length of his room, each step a beat in his silent soliloquy. "A protector must be wise," he whispered to the silence. "And wisdom... wisdom comes from experience."

The moon outside cast a pale light through his window, a silent sentinel in the night's sky. Shun paused before the glass, his reflection a ghostly twin that seemed to search him for answers he didn't yet have.

"Next time," he promised, both to himself and to the night, "I'll be better. I'll be the protector my father believes I can be." It was a vow, a whisper in the dark.