Notes: White is the universal color for mourning in
Asia, and Alberto is briefly seen wearing Taisho's head scarf as a white armband
after their duel. This one's for Voidstar.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WEARING A WHITE ARMBAND
They were the best of enemies, always.
One had once smirked, in the fervor of battle, that the other was probably the only man
he knew who could legitimately describe himself as 'electrifying'.
The second had taunted back that if *he* was electrifying, what was the other
man- shocking? ; just before winging a stroke of lethal voltage towards his bête noire.
They were both married.
One wife knew, the other pretended not to. The latter nibbled lotus fruit, and cocooned herself from the subtle poison of infidelity by insisting that she did not really love her husband. The former kept hidden in her bottom drawer a special contrivance that she would make vigorous use of on torrid nights for the perversely inexplicable pleasure of hearing her mate cry out a name that was not her own.
They both had their work, and their work had them.
There were no doubts on that score, ever, that might exist to dissipate the lightning bolt or dampen the shockwave both knew would one day render a deathblow. Nor did they look back in regret at What- Might- Have- Been had they been fighting on the same side, for rivalry necessitates a certain respect that camaraderie takes for granted.
One lost an eye, and then lost a friend.
One was killed by the other- but it didn't matter in the end.
For the hands of Love will not be tied: by gender, by marriage, by allegiance, or ambition. It requires neither friendship nor attractiveness, loyalty or cooperation, to have its own way. It will not sit down, shut up, be good, or be sensible; and hurdles as gracefully a single spark of energy tracing the curve of a sine wave over the barriers with which we try to define it.