Disclaimer: You know what this part is going to say - I don't own Dynasty Warriors. Etc, etc.


Provocation

He put up with a lot.

..No, wait. He knew what you were thinking. Oh great, not another whining, 'woe-is-me'-fest, right? Look him – poor Ma Dai, with all his endless troubles.

Well..

You're wrong.

That wasn't it. It was simple fact – he put up with a lot, just as everyone else did. War wasn't easy after all – though his situation could be so much worse, so he didn't complain too much about it.

Actually.. When did you hear him complain about it? Hm? ..Yes, that's right. Never.

Not a word.

All the carnage and the bloody company fighting and fighting fatigue bone-deep, struggle after struggle as more and more loss is etched into your soul.

Still.

He understood. Understanding didn't make it all okay, of course, but it meant he could drag himself through each conflict with at least some semblance of his head being held high.

Someone had to do it. Somebody had to fight to make the world better.

Somebody had to follow him and fight for him and hope and hope he didn't kill himself too soon in his reckless charge to scourge injustice.

Great. Sure.

Ma Dai could deal with that. He had accepted it; his duty and his job. And good or bad; rain or shine he didn't utter a word of complaint about it.

But this..

This.

This might actually be the last straw.

He put up with a lot – like everyone, you know? We all knew as well, of course, that everyone had a breaking point.

A line.

A definite, straight line. Bold or thinly painted, it was most certainly there.

And nobody – nobody crossed that line.

Not a soul.

Now, Ma Dai had seen many a man's breaking point. Usually the aftermath of the explosion, but sometimes during. The build-up, though, was the most terrifying thing. Obvious or not, once you realised what was happening – if you were aware enough as Ma Dai was, you should be

Very

Very...

Scared.

An accumulation, all kinds of subtle promising all kinds of unpleasant things – annoyed as it was ignored enraged that it was defied then tick-tock tick-tock what level of brutality and destruction was it going to cause when all the shackles were finally, finally snapped and abandoned?

The only end was ruin. Pouring blood or nothing left to mourn, savagery or sheer calculated cold – that which lay beyond patience was an unpredictable, senseless no-man's land.

If you were unlucky enough to care at all you had to pray – pray that the outburst was a small one, or that you died before those boundaries did.

Anything could cause it.

The main culprit was time – day after day after day of hard damn work, horrors ever grating on body and spirit which found no rest; no respite from sleep or anything else. It was gradual – accelerated or no, and it only took one second to snap.

Irreparably, or just a small amount of time where you cared not one jot about gathering up the pieces.

..Too many men.

There were far too many he had seen, wrecked or surrounded by wreckage. Even more who were..- just.. falling... apart bit by bit, tether shortening instance after instance.

Too many good men. Acquaintances. Comrades.. Friends.

Too much.

Understandable.

You could only put up with so much, after all.

..And himself? Well. Ma Dai had never allowed it to be contemplated. You just didn't, if you knew what was good for you. The line had been drawn long ago, subconsciously, and the unthinkable had been set. What could you do, but have faith that you (and the shackles) were strong enough to hold on?

Hah.

But.. Finally.

It was beginning to occur to him, somehow.. That he might just have found it.

Him! The eternally cheerful Ma Dai, whose unconventional strength had never been in question!

And it was all...

That one's..

Fault.

It wasn't even an extraordinary day. Not extraordinary as in 'particularly bad'. It was so average, actually, that that was irritating in itself – murky fields scarred and beyond use: check. A necessary but ultimately pointless skirmish for more people to waste their energies on – check. Simple bandits downed with so little effort it was saddening...-

Check.

Oh well.

All typically frustrating, but these things couldn't be helped now. At least it was easy enough to deal with for any trained warrior – he didn't even need to think; instinct did the job for him.

Any luck, and they could've been home by nightfall.

Simple.

Simple! Nothing more than very mildly troublesome (average but still good odds for skirmishes like these).

Ma Dai had fought.

Fought.

Fought... – in fact, no, it was really more like swish swish swipe. Do the motions, do the motions, there they've stopped moving. Rinse repeat repeat.

Any that didn't run littered the nearby landscape as he swish swish swiped his brush. Enemy after enemy after enemy however much they put up a fight or left a parting scratch or three -

Then...

That was when it had happened. Just a split-second – but that was all it took for enemies as opportunistic as these. A moment your instincts weren't quite on top of and

WHAM his world was spinning..

Spinning...

See the pretty stars how bright-

It's over. Ouch, so it kind of stings, but it's nothing – easy enough to pull yourself back up again; brush it off, reach for your own brush –

Freeze.

His throwaway comment of 'lucky' died on his tongue, as another moment began.

It was.. different. Different and more terrifying than any other thing in his life, as he looked at the cocky culprit in front of him.

Blood drip-drip-dripped from the side of his head (no doubt his hair was sodden).. Drip-drip-drip...

However, there was no pain, and the sanguine liquid barely registered beside that other red.

Heavy breathing frame unsteady yet held almost suspended, as he watched that man with increasing .. ire.

What he was holding.. So casually...

(Manhandling)

His hand snapped to the brush but of course it wasn't there, until some part of him managed to convince the rest to use words.

"Hand it over."

Ma Dai's voice was strangely subdued – a calm before a possible storm (probably inevitable at this rate). He could feel it building.

No, no. He was fine, it was fine it was fine he'd get it back anyway it wasn't as if he didn't have a spare -

Calm down. Calm down.. This doesn't bother you. It doesn't.

Heh who was he kidding.

The bandit, thick enough as he was, took his time to reply. Played with the fire that oh at this rate was going to kill him. Messily.

"Hmm... Let me think about that."

Ma Dai actually bristled. Oh boy. Why on Earth did he have to put up with this? This, of all things! That chump didn't know what kind of danger he was in.. -

A pathetic day. A pathetic battle. A pathetic peon only drawing out Ma Dai's time in this hole even longer!

Why. Did. He. Have. To. Put. Up. With. This.

Also, out of all the infuriating things that one could do, WHY was it.. that?

He was taking too long and he was crossing..

The.

Line.

"I'm warning you." Ma Dai ground out, shaking, shaking, shaking-

Sonofabitch had the gall to look amused..-

Amused. Amused. Well he wasn't amused – forget the injury, this was grievous beyond the pale it was an. INSULT.

(Rattled, rattling, rattling – the shackles were only in his way.)

"Quit screwing around with me! Give me. Back. My hat!" His eyes flashed dangerously, the promise of nothing but pain dancing around in their depths – like this pain and.. pathetic humiliation that was searing through his veins!

What shame. The atrocity. He almost felt.. Naked!

(Irrational you say? Are you sure?) The stylish headgear. How could you truly be part of the Ma family without it? And to see it – his.. HAT...

(Trademark?)

-Every battle before; every single bloody conflict it had been there, always there proudly sitting –

And now, off his head and being handled like it was nothing..-

...No.

(Blasphemy)

...No...

(-How dare-?)

Hell. NO.

Bastard was going to pay.