Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King, nor any of the characters from the original manga. I own myself and the rights to this fanfic. Hiroyuki Takei owns Shaman King

Author's Note: A little Ren POV. Rated for mild language and talk of suicide. My first Shaman King fanfic to post here so please use discretion when reviewing/flaming me U Sorry it's so short....

Well I suppose I can't beat around the bush about this subject. As the title of this little rant would suggest, I was trained to hate. I was trained, taught and beaten the concept that everyone was an enemy. I could trust no one.

Correction... trust no one but family of course. It makes sense seeing as the one who told me of these lessons was a family member. Hmph. Some family.

So, as I was saying before. I was told that in this world, it's kill or be killed. Beat or be beaten. Hunt or be hunted.... Now I'm being repetitive. You get the idea. I'm still reviewing these ideas as you read, as I type. I feel like such a dope for believing and following through with said ideas. I gave respect to no one but family. Barely that.

And with the way I was brought up, I gave kindness to no one. Not even family. It's a little hard to smile when there's a tattoo on your back constantly reminding you of your teaching. TEACHING. Hah, more like racism that's been shoved down your throat to be learnt.

While yes, it's true. My family is rich, the Tao name is a very prosperous one. We own large estates, villas and air planes. All because of a name.

But in no way does that mean I (and my sister) led a luxurious or comfortable life. No, the Tao name called for back-breaking training, constant scorns for failure and burdens of responsibilities to be the best. Not the best 'that you could be'. Best as in 'better than everyone else'

HE didn't even treat us as family. By 'us' I mean my sister and I. Because we were the youngest, he chose to influence us from when we were mere children. We weren't treated as family. We were treated as tools. Tools of war, destruction and hate. Humans, people, persons, living beings; none of that had to do with us.

Tools... weapons... that certainly rings a bell.

I'm fourteen-years-old. I've seen boys my age play soccer, talk over drinks in a café or restaurant. I've seen boys my age have fun. Smile. Spend time with friends.

If it wasn't for our age, we'd have nothing in common. And we basically don't. What did I do in my free time? I certainly didn't hang around with friends. Hell, I didn't even have friends. No, no that'd anger my certain family member quite a bit. And of course we couldn't have THAT.

Suicide was a suggestion. It floated around my head quite a few times. It's a suggestion that I probably would've gone through with. But I felt that if I had killed myself... it'd be like letting HIM win. And I would never have that. Never. I would become stronger than him, become Shaman King, and I would make him see that I was worthy of the crown.

I hated him. With a passion. And though I still do hate him, but now it's old hate. Not something you go on ranting about every five minutes. It's just something to know that you don't like thinking about.

I hate that old bastard, and I don't care if he was trying to 'revive the Tao name'. Who cares if society hated us for what we were? Society can kiss my ass. I am a Tao and I don't care who knows it. I've learnt from my friends that life is not about achieving revenge. And we certainly taught HIM that the hard way.

I don't know if I'll ever forgive him. What really pisses me off is that he still believes in the concept that had to be beaten into me. That in this world, you have no friends. Only family.

Well he's just a lonely old prick.

Hmph, I suppose I shouldn't swear but when you're angry it feels good to let out aggression through words.

I may have been trained to hate... But the only person I hate is the one who trained me to.