Time could not tell what had happened to create such a downtrodden boy.
The light gleamed on him, but he was always blinded by it, and the darkness that surrounded them all.
He always lost what should not have been taken.
Brought up by relatives whom considered him trash until they saw what he did for their son, then they changed, after 14 years.
He held nothing against them after sometime, it all faded into that all consuming black.
Black, who had left unwillingly, by the hands of his own flesh and blood.
A cruel woman in black, named black, with a heart and reputation, that followed suit.
A suit he did not like, like a suit or robe, which he hated more, and wore more often then not.
To funerals of the fallen, heroes, and enemies.
Enemies whom where so important to him, his rivalry, so important.
The lost look in the blonde's eyes, so similar to when they were only just a few years younger.
Younger was only 5 years ago, 4 years ago they were learning, 3 years ago they were ignorant, 2 years ago they were getting ahead of themselves and dieing, 1 year ago they were pretending every thing was okay, now they were faced with a blazing truth.
Some faded to the black, some went to the dark, others stayed in the light, to afraid to roam to far from it's protective glow, he just wished to faded as well.
The flashing lights got old long ago, 5 years ago.
The glares and gleams, and twinkles all got old, the twinkle dieing out and finally fading into that peacefully accepted black.
A sneer all that held resemblance of old times, 6 years ago.
A grudge that should have never been, held long 7 years to long, maybe longer.
A frightened child, turned head strong lad, turned brave young man, turned wizened and sharp gentleman or not, turned glorified, and traumatized hero.
Hero who watched so many die, who watched so many killed, and who lead them all.
Responsibility and courage, all that was accepted, starring into the eyes of who could have, perhaps, been his father, if one word had not be uttered, if one insult been held back, but pride always finds it's way into matters so precious and dear.
Life slowed to a second and he was dead, he abandoned a killer's soul and meet back with a twinkling friend.
He lived, again.
He triumphed.
He felt happy and sad.
Sad to lose so many, glad that it was over, happy that his friends still lived, most, though not all.
He cried for the losses, for friends, family, and strangers, for a godson left behind, so much like himself.
Felt a conviction to be the best godfather as possible, wondered if this was what his own godfather had felt.
Understood the need to protect and love.
Found that time stopped for no one, and he knew first had how cruel that really was, had first had experience with that unfairness, one two a hand full of times to many.
Found that time still only slowed a second when dead, then continued on.
The harsh, reality only, making a smile rise to his face.
The only thought stuck in his head for years, love, finally meet.
His role and purpose to the world was over, now he could finally live, for a family, for friends, for rivals that are not quit rivals any longer, not for years.
Younger was only 24 years ago, 23 years ago they were learning, 22 years ago they were ignorant, 21 years ago they were getting ahead of themselves and dieing, 20 year ago they were pretending every thing was okay, 19 years ago they were faced with a blazing truth, 18 years ago they held hurt and betrayal, and victory in their bloodied hands.
Time could not tell what had happened to create such a downtrodden boy, nor such a great man.
Time could not tell a soul, how terrified it had been for him either.