-Disclaimer- Why do people do these? I mean, if you owned anything you wrote about, would it really be a fanfic? And plus if you were actually getting either a-paid to write this or b-given permission to write this using said material, wouldn't you make it like the best thing since sliced bread? Anyway, I don't own anything. I'm poor. :( And yeah, yet another title that makes no sense, but whatever, I do what I want.
Deep Thoughts, Dark Despair
by D. Ant
Goemon leaned against a tree. He could have picked any tree in the forest, but he chose this one particular tree. He picked it because like him, it was broken and different from all the others, seemingly outcast from the so-called perfect trees.
Was there ever something "perfect"? Was that even possible?
Why? he wondered, staring off to the ground. Why would they ask me to do such a thing?
He thought about it, but it didn't make sense. Were they right? Was his master right in what he said? Was he the one who would bring shame to his family?
This time, taking it away
I've got a problem, with me getting in the way,
It wasn't his fault. Was it? The feelings that grew inside of him? The voice of reason that he fought with?
Not by design
"You are falling behind," his master told him. "The outsiders are clouding your judgement."
Goemon remained still, kneeling in front of his master, his hands on his thighs, his head bowed.
"Your father was never like this. He would never abandon his principles on some worthless beings."
Goemon flinched at that. They were his friends. They weren't worthless.
"Prove to me, to your family name, that you are a true samurai. Make your name one the Ishikawa clan can be proud of."
"Tell me how," Goemon said, wanting so much to please his ancestors.
"You must be one without feelings or thought," his master explained. "Your blood is warm. It must be cold."
An apprentice samurai walked in holding a canvas bag. The bag was moving, or rather the thing inside the bag was moving.
Goemon looked up at the bag, his eyes following it as it was set down. He stared in shock as the tan fluffy puppy came crawling out of it, it's tail wagging as it yipped at Goemon.
"Kill it," his master said.
Goemon stared down at the puppy, fighting off the feelings that built up inside. He gripped his sword, grabbing the handle. He closed his eyes. He had to do this. He had to.
So I take my face and bash it into a mirror.
I won't have to see the pain (bleed, bleed)
He heard the loud yelp, the last sounds the puppy would make. But it wasn't his doing.
He opened his eyes, staring in horror the scene before him. It wasn't his sword that made the final blow. Nor was it his masters.
The apprentice stood, his eyes lifeless as a small smile of satisfaction formed on his lips as he pulled his sword up, flinging the small amount of blood off before he sheathed it.
This state is elevating, as the hurt turns into hating.
Anticipating, all the fucked up feelings again.
Goemon looked up at his master, who seemed to enjoy the little presentation. His eyes were also lifeless.
"You will need to be retrained," he master said, disappointed.
Goemon shook his head, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he stared down at the dead puppy. "No," he muttered. "No." He jumped to his feet, unable to hold in the anger. "No! I will never be like you!"
His master scoffed. "You are a samurai. Learn to behave like a true warrior. Learn your place!"
"My place? A true warrior? Does a true warrior kill innocent lives?!"
"Meaningless lives," his master said. "Strays with no place in this world. Much like the ones you call your friends."
Goemon shook with anger, his breathing became heavy, his hand clenching his sword even tighter.
"They use you, Goemon. They don't respect you. They are your enemies. They must pay for their sins."
"No," Goemon said, refusing to believe those words.
"Ask them," his master said simply. "Tell them what I told you. See what they say. Their answer will be what seperates them from me."
The hurt inside is fading
"He said what?" Lupin asked, somewhat offended.
"Don't tell me you believe this shit he's feeding you?" Jigen stared at Goemon, waiting for the answer he wanted to hear.
Goemon didn't answer.
"Well?" Jigen asked.
"Pick a side, Goemon," Lupin advised. "We do respect you, so we'll let you make up your own mind. We won't tell you who's life is worth living."
This shit's gone way too far.
"Make up my own mind," he mumbled, giving off a small laugh as he pushed himself away from the tree.
We won't tell you who's life is worth living.
Why did he say that? Was Lupin, in his own way, trying to tell him his master wasn't worth living? Or was that aimed towards him? Or towards Goemon?
"Could it be...?" He looked up in realization.
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore.
"Hurry up, Jigen," Lupin said in a hushed voice as they ran away from the back room of the bank.
"You could carry some of this, you know," Jigen complained as he held three large bags full of money.
Lupin grinned, but didn't answer.
The two stopped as they rounded the corner, surprised to see Goemon standing at the end of it.
"Finally decide to help?" Lupin asked with a grin.
"Hey, help carry this stuff, will you?" Jigen asked.
For once inside awaking.
I'm done, I'm not a whore.
Goemon stood still and silent.
"Goemon?" Lupin asked.
"You all right?" Jigen was worried. Worried and a bit nervous.
Goemon opened his eyes, staring coldly at Lupin.
You've taken everything and, oh, I cannot give anymore.
The two froze as Goemon ran at them, readying his sword for an attack.
"Goemon, what the hell?" Lupin yelled out as he reached for his gun.
Jigen couldn't believe what he was seeing and backed away.
Lupin pulled out his gun and fired a shot. The bullet was cut in half, falling to the floor.
Goemon closed his eyes, clearing his mind of the pain he was feeling. He screamed as he brought his sword up, swiping it in front of him several times.
Lupin stood, a pained look on his face. He stumbled backwards, the blood finally gushing from the wounds as he fell over dead.
Jigen dropped the bags of money as he looked on in horror. "Jesus..." His voice quivered as his eyes stayed on his dead friend, the pool of blood growing around him.
Goemon opened his eyes, setting them on Jigen. Lupin's blood dripped from the blade of his sword, falling to the ground by his feet.
"Why..." Jigen was terrified. He could feel the sickness rise up in him. "Damn it!" he screamed, tears falling down his face as he stumbled backwards, his knees getting weak.
My mind is done with this,
Okay, I've got a question.
"Can I throw it all away?"
Goemon stared into the eyes of the man he considered a good friend. No, he once considered him a good friend.
He's still my friend, he thought. Or, he was, until...
He glanced down at Lupin, his eyes open as they stared lifeless at the ceiling.
Was it right? Am I doing the right thing? Am I making the right decision?
Jigen reached back and pulled out his gun, aiming it at Goemon.
Take back what's mine
Can I still be a true samurai, even after all of this?
Jigen cocked his gun.
I can't go back. I can't change this.
Jigen fired, Goemon lifting up his sword, deflecting the shot.
"I have to do this," Goemon said, trying to make himself believe his words.
So I take my time, guiding the blade down the line
Each cut closer to the vein (vein, vein)
Jigen fired the remaining five bullets as Goemon ran at him. His legs like rubber, he couldn't run. And so, he dropped his Magnum by his feet and closed his eyes.
Goemon screamed, racing forward, swinging his blade as he passed Jigen.
Jigen's body slumped forward and fell, the blood soon surrounding it.
Goemon dropped his sword, his body shaking as he realized what he had done. He choked up, falling to his knees.
"Nooooo!" he screamed, dropping his head and sobbing.
Just then a gun went off.
Goemon flinched in pain as the bullet travelled through his left shoulder.
This state is elevating, as the hurt turns into hating.
He grabbed his sword and stood.
"Freeze!" the frightened security guard yelled.
Goemon turned, the anger filling him once again.
"Don't move!" The security guard took a few steps back.
Goemon screamed, rushing forward and giving the security guard a quick death, his body joining Lupin's and Jigen's.
Anticipating, all the fucked up feelings again.
Goemon ran from the bank. He never looked back. He didn't want to see what he had done. He was already reliving it over and over in his head.
He leaned up against the imperfect tree. The place he was before this all started. Before the words of honor and dignity ran through his mind.
Sliding down the tree, he sat and sobbed. He thought it would make him different. He thought it was the answer. But now, when he had slaughtered his two friends, only then did he know that it wasn't.
He didn't feel different. He didn't feel like a true warrior. Hell, he may as well of killed that puppy. At least then he would have known that the feelings inside, the ones put there with the help of his friends, were not that easy to get rid of.
"I did this," he said between sobs. "I did this for him. Not for my family. For him. The one who doesn't respect me."
Goemon wiped the tears away, standing and staring, a blank expression on his face, ahead towards the edge of the forest. Towards the village he was from.
The hurt inside is fading
This shit's gone way too far.
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore.
He stood at the entrance to the village, the dojo towards the end. The dojo where he was sure his master would be.
For once inside awaking.
"Goemon," his master said, noticing the blood spatters on his clothing. He smiled and nodded. "You made the right choice."
I'm done, I'm not a whore.
"Shut up." Goemon stared at him. He stared with the same cold eyes the apprentice had when he killed the puppy.
"Goemon?" His masters smile faded. He knew that look. The look of one who had lost their way, who had gone too far. He grabbed his sword, preparing it before him.
"Master." The apprentice stepped in front of him, his master nodding and stepping back.
You've taken everything and, oh, I cannot give anymore.
Goemon ran forward, one slice doing in the apprentice's sword as well as the apprentice, who fell dead to the floor.
He then eyed his master.
I'm here to stay (bring it down)
Blood was soon pouring from his masters head, Goemon removing the sword he had just pierced through it.
He thought it would be enough, but it wasn't. He needed more.
Why?
He still felt the pain and anger, but he couldn't show it. He was numb.
"Goemon Ishikawa!" At the entrance to the dojo stood the village guards, the head guard standing in front of eight others, four with their bows ready.
Bring it down
Goemon turned and faced the men. He took a step forward.
The head guard made a signal, the bowmen letting fly their arrows.
Goemon brought his sword up, blocking them, the arrows falling to small pieces.
Gonna break it down
The other pulled out their swords and ran forward.
GONNA BREAK IT!
Goemon screamed, taking on the five while the other four shot arrows at him. He blocked every strike and every arrow, killing the five swordsmen before rushing towards the bowmen and killing them.
His clothes were stained with more blood, the blood of his victims also running down his face and hands.
He felt no remorse for what he had done. Not at that point. Not while in the dojo.
This state is elevating, as the hurt turns into hating.
Anticipating, all the fucked up feelings again.
He stepped outside, most of his village waiting for him. They were all armed with the weapons they had perfected.
Goemon looked upon the crowd. Only when he saw the women and children ready to fight did he feel something. But even that wasn't enough.
The battle was long and brutal. Goemon stood his ground, but it didn't mean he was invincible.
Arrows pierced him, blades sliced his skin, spears thrust into his body.
For a while he wanted that. He wanted to feel his own pain.
But even those feelings left him.
The hurt inside is fading
This shit's gone way too far.
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore.
Was this what it meant to be a true samurai? Was this what his master wanted? Would this make his ancestors proud?
The last body fell. The battle was over. His village was dead.
Goemon looked around at his answer, the pain from his wounds returning.
For once inside awaking.
I'm done, I'm not a whore.
The pain wasn't enough. The cuts and piercings on his body, the blood staining his clothes, weren't harsh enough to satisfy him. The murders he just committed, the signs of it all around him, weren't enough. The memories, the pain, of him killing his two friends remained, etched in his mind as clear as it was when it happened.
He dropped to his knees and bowed his head as he sobbed. He closed his eyes, but all he saw were the horrified faces of Lupin and Jigen, the ones they gave just before he attacked.
And then for some reason he started to laugh. His laughing got louder and louder. And then it faded.
He grabbed his sword and stared down at it.
You've taken everything and, oh, I cannot give anymore.
It was the final answer. The way to rid himself of the pain.
He placed the blade on his chest, closing his eyes as he let the memories haunt him once more. And then, he pushed the sword through his chest.
Give anymore
He yanked the blade upwards, taking his last breath as he fell to the ground, joining the bodies of the ones whose lives he had stolen.
Authors afterthought thingie: Arg, I hate this double space format thing. -kills it- And by the by, this was a joke story I wrote. Actually it started as a joke, but truth be told, somewhere along the way I got serious in writing it. It kind of switches back and forth. And if you liked it, that's fine. And if you laughed, cried and became a part of the story, that's fine as well.
Am I allowed to upload two stories a day? Oh well, I did it. -shrugs and scampers off-