Whoa! Its been a while since I was last on here. Sorry about that, I have no excuse than I just forgot to post things here.
Anyhow, this is for Madameazzure's Noblesse December Event
I wrote this with the song Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch. Listening to if you want to because at parts it might go along with this.
Warning! Feels trip! ( Possibly) death mentions with slight fluff at the end. Also angst. A lot of it too.
Enjoy everyone! :)
The rain had started not long ago. Its light mist seemed refreshing. Takeo stood on the balcony, deep in sorrowful thoughts. The rain seemed to depress him further as his guilt came forth.
He had a lot to be guilty for, more so than Tao. The others he wasn't sure about, so he wouldn't include them. Ever since he would remember, he was experimented on, or killing others. Although, it's not like he had all of his memories in the first place so he couldn't be totally accurate.
All it seemed he received from the Union was his eyesight far beyond what humans could obtain naturally. His strength the same as his eyes. Oh, he couldn't forget the memories he lost and the ones he wished to lose.
The weight in his coat pocket brought even more sadness to him. The gun he carried around suddenly felt unnaturally heavy. It bothering him for it was usually nothing more than a heavy paper weight.
But, the lives his guns, in general, laid waste to was an amount he wished not to think about. The blood he shed with one bullet would be enough to fill the ocean twice over. The amount of armies killed for nothing else other than the Union wished them to be dead. He followed those orders to the final and smallest detail given to him.
Ironic that the softie, as Tao jokingly calls him, of the group would shed the blood of another if ordered. He always made it look effortless. That it has no effect on his soul at all, for in the Union, you were nothing but a soldier who did the Unions bidding.
He feels the effects of each death, knowing how each looked in their final moment. He saw each face flash in his scope, as if the universe wished those souls to haunt the only memories he has.
All the faces of those he killed on order didn't hurt as bad as the others. He knows it's all wrong, but he just couldn't help it. Orders were orders. If you didn't follow them, you were as good as dead. Might as well as have put a bullet in his own skull. That is if he was stupid enough to disobey an order. Unfortunately, it was them or him. At the time, when he thought he had a sister, he did what he had to do. Duty helps the guilt ever so slightly.
Those faces died out of his vision as he was lulled out of his musings by the sound of the pain that had grown into nothing but a backdrop to his thoughts. His face still in a frown, the air showing his depressed mood. This was visible by just how he was standing against the railing, his arms getting wet, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The rain had picked up along with the wind. The wind was bitter cold as it was now late fall, snow should be heading their way soon if the forecasters were correct. The dark sky mirrored his mood.
The guilt he felt increased as the rain increased. Like waves playing along with the rhythm somehow given off by the moon. Increased as if it were two sorrowful synchronized dancers to a sad tune.
While he may have been involved in the direct deaths that his old occupation made him do, the others was all on him. If not for his own stupidity and falling for his human need for social interaction, none of them would have died. All of the families who lost their loved ones far too soon was because of him. Death loomed over him and the fate of those he talked to.
The kids he innocently spoke with briefly, if not to get away from the dreariness of his 'team', gone forever. Their souls plucked from them with no choice. Never able to live up to their potential. Parents in mourning who will never hug their child again. The carnival of souls he lost never ended with just one. A million stories that would never have a proper ending.
Memories of them still fresh as they haunt him. The memories shadows him until they find a perfect time to strike. To cripple him and drown him in guilt, in sorrow for the lives he inadvertently killed. Only Frankenstein would understand how that felt. How it felt to have so many souls haunting him, wanting him to break under their will power. As if anyone of higher power was trying to break him until he was no more.
He felt at fault for the lives he's destroyed. Plenty of lives are ruined to damnation because of him. The kids killed by Shark and Hammer to 'protect the Union.' It sickened him. He knew they only did because it was fun, and Krantz agreed to it making it even better for them.
The blood they spilled stained his soul. The blood took a part of him he knew he would never be able to get back. Every laugh he shared with them, or pleasantry even haunts him.
He knows that not just the lives he ended was damaged, but also those who cared for those killed: the parents, friends, and family. All of them having to bury a loved one far too soon. His heart constricted painfully at the thought, and it left him where he stood.
A hand upon his shoulder awakened him from his daze of death. Takeo cursed his inattention and turned to see just who's hand it was. Eyes widening by a fraction of an inch, it was Frankenstein!
" Oh, is everything alright?" Takeo asked, worried if something happened because of his lack of attention to his surroundings.
" Yes, everything is alright." Frankenstein reassured him. He crossed his arms, he gave a smile to show he wasn't angry at the sniper. " I was just making sure you come inside soon, it is rather cold out here. You may be an enhanced human, but you can still get sick if you stay in this weather for too long without the proper clothing."
Takeo looked down at his unclothed arms. Frankenstein, as usual, had a point. He did feel chilled from the rain the hit him and the cold wind that bit at his skin. It calmed the raging storm within him, so he wasn't sure how much he actually cared about this fact.
"... I will come in soon." Takeo responded, half tempted to turn away from the man. He did not due to the amount of respect he had for him; it would disrespectful for him to turn around when the other was just showing, in his own way, his concern for him.
Frankenstein gave a small downturn of his lips at this. He let out an internal sigh. It made him wonder if all three adopted enhanced humans somehow got his stubbornness. Unfolding the blanket in his possession, he laid it on the subdued man next to him.
This action shocked Takeo as he instinctively grabbed it so it wouldn't fall. He gave Frankenstein a curious and bewildered look. At this, Frankenstein just gave a small caring smile.
" If you wish to remain out here, then at least use that to keep yourself warm." Was all Takeo got for an answer.
Frankenstein turned to walk back into the house. Takeo wanted to ask him a question he had for him. He had this for a while, but hadn't trusted the other, or simply other matters took priority.
" Frankenstein," The hesitant sounding voice stopped Frankenstein mid step, but he had expected this, hoping for it actually. Frankenstein wanted to know what troubled the sniper, it was unusual to see him so down. " Does it get better?" Takeo asked quietly, hating how childish he sounded. He hated that he sounded like a small child asking his father an important question.
" Does what get better?" Asking for its sake as he had a good idea what Takeo meant.
" Does the guilt ever leave? Do the memories fade so the souls won't try to overtake me?" Frankenstein moved to stand next to him. He understood how Takeo felt, all too well might he add.
" No, it does not," Frankenstein admitted. He looked Takeo in the eye. " but it does get better. You get used to it as you move on and make amends. Just help others, each one means one of the haunting souls has forgiven you. That is what I recommend. That or find someone special to you and try to make sure they are never hurt. To keep them healthy and alive for as long as they naturally would be."
" Oh… I never thought of it like that." Takeo's heart lighten by this simple solution. For reasons he couldn't place why he felt better at this suggestion. " Thank you." He gave a ghost of a smile over to his boss who helped him out of his suppor.
" No thanks needed." Frankenstein waved off. Both headed back inside to avoid the rain, but the gloomy mood of it now having no effect.
Takeo reached his room as he came to a conclusion. The deaths may hurt him, but he knew he just had to move on. He would help people instead of hurting them, live his life to fullest for the ones whose lives were cut too short.
The memories, he would not let them take ahold of him. He would live with them. After all, they made him, him. Made Takeo who he was today. It's not like he had childhood memories to rely on, so the gifts of normality in a world of the abnormal he would cherish and give to others.
While he knew the memories would forever haunt him, he knew he had a team to rely on if they became too much. They were his memories, ones that couldn't be stolen. It was his life, and he would live it for the ones lost.