It's cold and it's painful-blood, blood, blood flowing like a river amongst the dirt. And there's a moment of whyarewe doingthis? Because we belong to the village, and nobody wants to lose their home. So we fight, and we fight these wars nobody will ever win.
And we're all sending in kids, kids who are barely thirteen-alls fair in love and war. But it's back, and it won't go away-why are we doing this? Fighting against an army that might destroy us to save everything we care about. Because it's all we've ever known-and nobody wants to be alone.
But we all wish it could stop, because our opponent is just fighting for that same wish-but it will never cease to amaze us just how different we are. But then there's the rush of adrenaline and you feel like a savior-and it will always surprise us, just how alike we are.
It gives everyone hope-which is all anyone really wants during a battle, that and to win. We all think so damned alike for enemies. Nobody wants to die for it-but we will, because it's our nindo inside all of us that we share. The one thing we can all, always share.
There's screaming-Kamisaveus! Ithurts! Don'tdieonme damnit! Why! And the ever present chorus of Die!Fight! Protectthevillage! That we will never forget.
We are never taught how to forget-but we all wish we could.
And we are never taught how to know when to stop-but we all wish we could.
Never taught how to keep our emotions out of it, impersonal-but it always is.
They can't teach us how to deal with the loss-I learned to avoid it, and then confront it, and then die with it.
But we will always regret-but never regret anything.
Nightmares can't touch us after this-because we've already been through them all, in our heads and out.
Hell doesn't scare us-we've been there before.
Because we fight-fight for a sense safety and a place we can all call home.
And we will never forget-but we don't want to, even if we say we do.
And we will never stop fighting-because the reason is just.
And we will never stop-mourningwishing hopingdreaming, forasavior.
And when we are asked why?
"We belong to the village."
But the answer always hold a thousand, a million, an infinite number of unspoken words, thoughts, experiences, memories, regrets, wished, battles.
We belong to the village.
