If it were to all end now, what would become of them? What would become of him?
This was a question that often plagued Kadaj and as he progressed, it would slowly begin to consume his every waking thought.
Failure was not something the silver haired youth thought about. But countless doubts would always arise somewhere in the midst of his practical plotting to serve the mother he had never known. Was he no more than a mere puppet? Once her bidding was done, would he become nothing more than a distant memory to her as he had the world?
It was true; he was nothing but a clone of something far greater. Never had he known anything but the life and path set before him. Living to serve her was his existence. He had no other purpose and nowhere else to go. A world such as this would never have accepted him for who he was. And who was he? Nothing really. Just a creation of a science he barely understood. To follow orders was the task. Days, weeks, months and years. Every action, every thought, every desire, all of it was dedicated to her. If a remnant could harbour a soul then surely it belonged to her. Kaa-san.
Emerald irises, wide and abundant with a childlike curiosity, gazed up at the vast nothingness known as the sky as if searching for answers of some sort. Answers that were never to come.
The wind was blowing at a rather pleasant pace, strong enough to cool off the heated feel of tight leather enshrouding his body but not quite strong enough to add to the natural chill that ran down this particular clone's spine.
Silken strands of silver flickered around those very eyes, not sturdy enough to withstand the breeze. For a moment, the eye that would forever remain obscured by strands of hair became visible, revealing a twinkle in the glassy surface. That twinkle could speak volumes if witnessed and in this case it was saying: We are the forgotten.
The sound of boots hitting pavement cut through the silence of the surrounding rocky terrain. Kadaj composed himself, tearing his gaze away from the heavens and lowering it to his boots.
Two other silver haired men took their respective places by his side. It was always this way. He was the leader as fate had chosen him to be. No one questioned it. It simply was the way that it was.
For a few moments, a heavy silence befell the trio. Such silences were something the men had grown accustomed to. It was in these silences that they probably understood one another best. In these quiet moments, each of them would drink in thoughts of a single yearning. To finally rest with her. Peace. It was all anyone ever wanted.
"Are we heading off then?"
The semi gruff voice was easy to recognize. It belonged to the larger one of the three.
Heading off. Yes. That was what they would do. Kadaj would begin to walk towards where his motorbike was parked and the other two would follow. A known routine. But the youth did not move. Instead, he gazed at the world before him, speaking up in a tone barely audible even to those right beside him.
"Does she love us, brothers?"
Two heads turned to the side simultaneously, eyeing the youngest male of the group. It was not confusion that struck them but a baffled kind of knowingness, as that very question was what haunted them as well. Only now, it had been uttered aloud. Voiced. Finally.
But there was no answer. There would never be an answer.
Turning around, Kadaj began to walk towards his sleek bike. The other two followed shortly after and in an instant, they were gone. Only the physical proof of their footprints would remain until the wind too erased it with its growing rage.
That was the way it was. That was the way it would always be.