Author's Note: I needed a respite from the writer's block my two original stories have given me, thus the creation of my first fanfic in over two years. Ouch. Inspiration comes from a Ronin fanvid on Youtube that was played to the tune of "Never Too Late" by Three Days Grace. I gave myself the challenge of a 500 word drabble and that's exactly what it is, summary and title excluded. I think that after eight years (wow....), we all know by now that I make no claim to owning the boys or making a profit off of them.
--MK
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When I was fourteen, the world ended.
Most people wouldn't believe me, even if I could tell them the truth. I'll admit it sounds a bit far-fetched, what with the state of things now: what kind of apocalypse leaves the world intact, looking as though nothing ever happened? But you had to've been there to understand; you had to've witnessed what I saw, and felt what I did. I can't quite put it into words for the uninitiated, and really I've never tried. It's something that has to be borne alone—a secret that's heavier than most, and yet more precious than others.
There are four whom I share it with, but it's not something we discuss. Really—who gives mystical armor to an adolescent and expects him to embrace the changes his body incurs when maturity is often traumatizing enough? I'm changed in so many more ways than one. I see the advantages as clearly as I do the disadvantages—the pros weighed against the cons—but that doesn't mean I have to be content with any of it. I never expected the world to be like this, but what's more, I never expected myself to turn out the way I did. Who would have thought such an Average Joe would save the world twice before his sixteenth birthday? First Mom, and then Dad…Alone as I was in the world, I never would have expected to play the part that I did…that I still sometimes do.
The others seem to think I'm okay with the roles we've been given, and maybe at some point I'll be able to say that's so without lying to myself. I don't understand—why me? Why us? What was it that made us stand out from the crowd? Growing up I was no one special; is it really a surprise that I'm still reaching for answers? Still clueless as to why? I see it in my friends, these men who have become brothers, but years later I am still searching for my own justifications. I can't say it though. A leader doesn't doubt; a leader doesn't make mistakes or admit defeat…or at least that's what I tell myself. At least that's what I relay to the others. It's impossible to lean against a pillar when the pillar can't stand on its own. A leader shouldn't be any different, even if he's lost all hope; even if he can't find the air to breathe. I have felt every bodily sensation save that of death, and yet it is impossible to count how many times I wished for just such a thing. I have known depression; I have known anxiety and fear. These were all things I never asked for and yet the armor attracted them without fail. Who would I have become without the armor? Who would they have been?
When I was fourteen the world ended, and I was the one who picked it back up. I never thought it would be like this.