You remember the day he died. It was thirteen years ago, but to you it feels like it just happened. If you hadn't gotten in his way then he'd still be alive. He'd be chuckling at the "prank" he just pulled with those fucking smuppets. Your name is Dave Strider, and your brother is undoubtedly dead.
It was a typical Saturday. Bro had just gotten home from work after a long night, but instead of going right to bed he asked if you wanted to run some errands with him. Of course you said yes, probably a lot more gleeful than you intended because the glint in Bro's shades told you he noticed. Regardless, you slipped on your bright red converse and you two were you the door. He said that he needed to pick up a few records then stop by someone's house to pay loan then you two were home free. You chuckled at the thought of him paying off a loan. Bro never paid loans.
When you finally reached the loan shark's place, you were a little disappointed. Originally you thought it as some bank loan or some trusted friend of Bro's, but in reality it was just a sleazy guy who lived in a shitty building and probably only found comfort in those who took out loans but couldn't pay them. Little did you know, Jack Noir was the name that would haunt you for the rest of your life.
As you entered the run down house the scent of must and decay assaulted your senses immediately. You covered your nose and gave an expectant look up towards Bro through your aviators. All he did was shrug then continue walking down a musty and rotting hallway, which usually would aggravate you, but this time you were honestly a bit scared for him. When you reached the end of the vile hall the pit in your stomach immediately worsened. Any moment a sci-fi monster or a man with too many weapons to count would burst through the door and kill you both before going out on a wild rampage around the city. All that happened though, was that Bro opened the creaky door and the two of you sat in front of a surprisingly modern looking desk with a man behind it. And what a crude man he was.
He turned in his chair as soon as the both of you were seated. His gaze immediately went to Bro and the man cracked a wry smirk and oh god his teeth were disgustingly yellow. When his cold, narrow gaze shifted to you, you froze in your seat. It was really hard to avert his gaze and luckily Bro saved your ass by giving a slight grunt. You never were comfortable with people staring at you.
Bro and the man started talking, and you actually learned a few things. The man was named Jack Noir, he worked for a larger company called Black Queen, and Bro owed him a shit ton of money. He pulled out an envelope full of cash and passed it to Noir who counted each bill carefully. When he finished he looked up from the pile of money and looked at Bro with an expression that read "that's all?" Bro scowled at the look on his face and told him flat out that it was all there. After this, though, it kind of becomes a blur. Bro and Jack did argue for quite awhile, but who knew I would end up like it did?
Soon Jack pulled out a gun and Bro took out his katana. You were wondering why he brought that. It was like he knew it would result in this. A few shots were fired and dodged before the gun was wrestled out of Noir's hands and thrown into the hall. Then Noir took a knife from one of the pockets on his coat and lunged towards Bro. You were almost positive Bro was going to get a heart full of knife so you tried to play hero and jumped in front of him. But he was faster and through a small bit of wrestling he ended up with his own katana lodged in his chest. It all happened too fast to process, but when you finally looked down at your feet reality came crashing down on your shoulders. Bro was dying. Jack was escaping. What the hell were you supposed to do?!
You kneeled down by Bro and looked at him. Just stared, really. He coughed and sputtered a bit and you immediately grabbed for his hand. Smiling, he looked up at you and you could already feel the hot tears pouring from your eyes. He started to talk to you. He told you not to cry, that everything would be fine, and he said you'd be strong. So strong that you wouldn't even need him. Lastly, he finally said that he loved you. It was when he stopped breathing that you broke down. You sobbed so loud that the entire neighbourhood probably heard you. Bro was all you had. It hurt to know he was gone forever. It hurt like an immense pain you'd never felt before. When you finally stood up you knew something changed in you. Something big and important had changed forever. You knew you'd never be the same.
You took his hat, and after a few minutes of prying you obtained his sword. Before leaving you kissed him on his forehead. It was something that he used to do to you as a toddler to reassure you that everything was alright. To you, it was your way of trying to pay him back for thirteen years of greatness. They were, by far, the best years of your life. The next thirteen years you spent training, working, and tracking down that damned Jack Noir.
Before you left you made sure to say your final goodbyes to your beloved guardian As you exited, you made sure to leave quite a few matches around the place. Bro always said he wanted to die in a fire. Because fires were cool, bright, and always caught people's attention. You put on his worn gray hat as you watched the place burn. You refused to move until it was completely gone. Thank god it was a practically abandoned neighbourhood, or else someone would've seen the flames and called the fire station. That would've blown. You imagined the fire fighter's souls you probably would've reaped, katana in hand, if they even dared disturbing Bro's final resting place. After about fifteen minutes when the building was completely burned down you turned your back and started walking. That day you turned your back on many things, and one of them was the Dave you
were before. You were no longer him, and you'd probably never be.
The next thirteen years were spent quite differently than your first. You had to drop out of school so you could work and keep yourself in that apartment. Your free time was spent training and locating the cities where Noir was traveling. One day, when you were ready, you'd kill that bastard yourself. To make Bro proud, and, perhaps, to make yourself proud. As the years went on it began becoming harder and harder to pay the rent, and, in the thirteenth year after his death you finally decided that after many years of almost complete solitude, you needed to enlist in a roommate.
This is something new I'm trying out. I've never really made something that's kind of sadstuck, so bear with me. Also, chapters may or may not get progressively shorter and it'll probably hardly update. Just a warning.