"The air out tonight is rather cold, don't you think Mr. Shishio?"
"No Soujiro..."
Soujiro nodded, not taking his eyes off the night sky, watching the clouds float idly past. He felt a terrible hole in chest, seemingly eating him from the inside out. He'd never really been able to shake off slaughtering the family that had taken him in. Sure, they'd beaten him...Mistreated him...Even attempted to murder him. These episodes of guilt and remorse had been affecting him the past six months he'd been with Shishio, and somehow they were getting progressively worse with each passing night. Though, he had never shed a tear...
At least, not until tonight.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, barely noticeable against his pale skin. The ever present smile on his face had been replaced by a somber expression, and for a moment, he thought he saw Shishio staring at him intently. He dismissed that notion. Mr. Shishio didn't concern himself with things like sadness or guilt. No, Shishio only cared about the power...
The strong shall live, and the weak shall die.Was that not the motto that he repeated day after day to him? The words that Shishio had told him would never let him down, no matter what?
It came a surprise, then, when Soujiro noticed Shishio sitting next to him, looking at the sky. Behind the bandages, he could see his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. They sat in this silence for a long time before Soujiro heard words that made him look to his left in shock.
"I was like you kid. Once."
Soujiro stared at him, confused. What was Mr. Shishio talking about?
"Yeah...You've only ever seen the side of me that most people see. Killing, stealing...All of that. I wasn't always like that, you know?"
"...What do you mean Mr. Shishio?" Soujiro asked, his voice no longer holding that light air that was so characteristic. It had turned quiet and one could practically taste the emotions in it.
Shishio sighed. "When I was about your age...I had a nice house too. Family. A brother and a sister...We all lived pretty well for ourselves. My mother would sell her vegetables and crap. My father...He was a nice guy, but he was in with the Yakuza. Pretty deep."
Soujiro didn't say anything. Shishio looked at him and smiled sadly. Looking back up to the sky, he continued.
"One day, when I was walking home, I met a bunch of cops on the road. Crowds and what not. It was all pretty close to my house, so naturally I was worried...When I got there, I found out that my family had been hacked into pieces over some debt my father apparently owed. He had borrowed money so that me and my siblings could go to school."
The silence that settled after this statement was solid as steel.
"After that...Heh. I think that's when my principles dropped. When I stopped caring about people and focused solely on power. I didn't have anything else to turn to, and I didn't want to end up dead...So I did the only thing I could do. I went, and killed every single bastard in that Yakuza house. The government found out about me doing that and captured me a little while after. I thought I was screwed but...It turns out they had other plans."
Shishio chuckled grimly before continuing.
"Those bastards...I should've known from the start they'd pull that sort of shit on me. The Imperialists were slowly gaining power during that time, and they managed to pull a fast one on me and gave me an ultimatum...I would kill for them, or I was dead. So, they took me to some jerk-off who taught me how to swing a sword properly. Before anyone knew it, I was the second best assassin the Imperialists had, next to the Battousai...Hoo boy."
Shishio turned to Soujiro and ruffled the young boy's hair, smiling at him.
"The reason I told you this kid, was so you know that people have to do things that kill them on the inside. It's gotta be done if you want to live, you know? I know you feel remorse over killing those goddamned demons you called family, but you can't let that hold you down. Drop the feelings...You and me, we're fighting for a world where only the strong live, while the weak become our food...When we finish the feast, we'll show everyone who stepped on us before just who we are, and why we were put on this Earth...To judge those who are unfit to live in it."
Soujiro did not look at him for a few minutes. His eyes never once blinked or moved from the clouds he was apparently watching. Finally though, he looked at Shishio, smiling pleasantly.
"Oh I know Mr. Shishio. Only the people who aren't worthy fall to my blade...Those who are unfit to live. Like you said, only the strong shall live, and the weak shall die. Right?"
Shishio nodded approvingly. "Right. Now get some sleep, tomorrow we have lots of training and traveling to accomplish."
As he stood up and walked back to the tree where he had been resting earlier, Soujiro remained sitting on the ground, looking at the sky.
The strong shall live, and the weak shall die...He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, smiling at the sky.
"Mr. Shishio is right...Killing the weak is the right thing to do. Only the strong deserve to be in this world...That's the simple truth."
He closed his eyes again, fell onto his back, and slowly drifted off to sleep, an unshed tear hanging from the corner of his eye.
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Sorry if Shishio is OOC, or I got any details about the Imperialists wrong...I tried my best though. I wanted to show that Shishio was more than just a giant prick with a fetish for power. :P Hope you enjoyed!
