Eternal
The cave is empty.
It's full of broken puppets, but to him it's empty.
Empty like the puppet pinned to the wall.
Heartless.
Forgotten by the world.
He reaches the center of the cave and his legs give in.
He's on his knees next to the saddest sight he's ever faced.
The three bodies – if broken toys like these can be called bodies – are facing the floor.
He pulls the swords out.
Blood mixed with poison drips from the cold metal surface.
He grabs the body in the middle and turns it over, holding it in his arms.
He looks at it's face.
He's acting silly now, for surely this crude, broken piece of wood shouldn't make him this sad?
It's not crude.
It's not just a piece of wood.
He puts a hand on the heart container; his hands get bloody but he doesn't really mind.
It's his blood anyway.
It's his blood too.
He feels like screaming.
He wants to tell the stupid, broken toy that it's heart is supposed to be beating.
He wants to tell the stupid, broken toy that it's supposed to be alive and well, telling him how idiotic his view on art is and calling him a brat.
He wants to tell the stupid, broken toy that it's supposed to wake up, slap him across the face and ask why he's crying.
Is he?
Is he crying?
Are those his tears, dripping down and mixing with the blood?
Oh.
They are.
So he screams.
He screams and he hits the stupid, broken toy in the face.
There are cracks in the wood now.
He broke the stupid, broken toy a little.
He wants to break the stupid, broken toy a little more.
He leans in and kisses the stupid, broken toy.
It's lips are cold and they feel wooden.
Weren't they always?
He lays the stupid, broken toy down on the blood-stained ground again and puts some clay into his handmouth.
This, more than anything, will be art.
It's a scorpion this time: the first and last time he makes a scorpion.
The scorpion makes itself at home on the heart container and he steps back, taking one last look at what is about to become ultimate beauty.
He walks out of the cave and, in a hoarse, weak voice, says katsu and that's it.
The flames are magnificent; the sound makes him shudder.
Still, he screams in horror and anguish.
Why did you give up your beliefs and allow this to happen?
Why did you give up being eternal?
