A Samurai's Fate
Author's Note: Er, this is awkward. This is my first story on the site. I had this idea mulling around since the game came out, but have only now just put into words. I have nothing else to say except to leave a review with any critiques you may have. I hope you enjoy.
Simon Blackquill lied awake at his cell as the guards approached him. With a grin, he got up, bitterly chuckling to himself when the guards recoiled in fear at his sudden movements.
There were two guards in the room. One had a clean-shaven and aged face, while the other looked more like a young, rough-around-the-edges type. The former was obviously the more experienced of the two. Unfortunately for him, his years of stoically guarding cells with his thousand-yard stare did nothing to quail his fear for the convict.
The younger one broke the silence. "Uh, Mr. Blackquill, it's time… if that's okay with you of course…."
Blackquill looked at the man with impatience. After a while, the older guard took the hint and began to rush Blackquill over to his destination.
This gave Blackquill sometime to reflect over the events that had passed, more specifically, over the failure of Wright and the misery of Athena. When his memory moved over to that of her misery, Blackquill grimaced in guilt.
It was true that what he did was devastating. She understood that to the fullest. That still didn't help with the guilt, though. He still shudders to think of how ensnared she must have felt in the courtroom, not unlike seven years ago.
During the weeks that had passed, Blackquill had found himself unable to hear much of the news outside of the visits he would get. From what he could gather from the visits from Wright was that Athena had stopped going to work for quite some time. She hadn't lost contact with Wright, however, and Wright let this behavior go on considering the situation.
Wright informed him that Justice had, to Wright's dismay and Blackquill's disappointment "disappeared off of the face of the earth" Probably to continue the search of the identity of Terran's murderer.
Blackquill could feel some slight resentment coming from Wright during their conversations. Although, one wouldn't require a mood matrix to see that Wright mostly blamed himself for the events that had transpired. After all, many hostages along with his very own daughter disappeared due to his folly, his failure.
There was one visit that stuck out in his mind, the one and only visit from Athena. He shuddered to think of it. Out of everything, it was what he thought of the most, that visit...
Athena had visited Blackquill in the days leading up to his execution. She wore her usual bright yellow clothes, though it made things worse. It was really uncomfortable to see Athena, looking as she should normally, except with one thing missing.
Her Smile.
That infectious smile, which breathed enthusiasm, and most importantly, hope in to all assisted by her, hope so great that even Simon was overcome with a nagging feeling of the defendant's innocence whenever they would be up against each other in court.
A new thought was born into Blackquill's mind at that very moment, self-loathing. For it was for his sake that his sister, Aura Blackquill, had gone to great lengths to prove his innocence. It was his stubbornness that led to the hostages' disappearance. If he could have somehow found a way to change that awful incident, perhaps it could have been avoided.
But that was in the past. What mattered in the end was Athena's innocence.
Instead of a smile, Athena came in with a crushing solemn look of regret on her face. Ironically enough, just as her smile was infectious, her sorrow was as well.
He wanted to with all of his might to empathize with her, to shed tears himself. However, around her, he knew that he had to keep his composure. What good would it be to her if he was a sobbing mess?
The visit itself didn't prove to be long or informative as Athena could barely get out the phrase "… Simon…" before she gradually started to trail off, not knowing what to say. She quickly turned her head away from Blackquill; he observed shortly after that tears had begun to roll down her cheeks.
Blackquill couldn't even muster a vain effort to console her. Despite his intellect and stalwart honor and understanding of the human psyche, Simon wasn't the best comforter. Several responses passed through his head, each of them rejected by himself. But the worst and most unbecoming of them all was "I'm sorry."
For him, the phrase "I'm sorry" would be pathetic, a denomination of everything he did on that faithful day. What was done in that courtroom was for her sake. Of course, it was sound in his head, now, though…
"Athena…" The prosecutors normally piercing, hawk-like eyes were averting her soft eyes. The urge to utter the unforgivable phrase was becoming unbearable. "I'm…"
Damn it. Thought Blackquill, becoming frustrated with himself.
As Blackquill struggled with his words, the once meek Cykes flared up with anger. "Damn it Simon! Just say something!" Her eyes were puffy with tears, her face red.
The words cut through Simon, yet he accepted them. The sole consistency of this diatribe situation that he referred to as the last seven years of his life was that he would suffer for other people's sake. He was content to let her vent out, that was the least he could do. This allowed Cykes to lash out at him more.
"I know what you're feeling Simon!" She shrieked, heaving. "I felt it then and I feel it now! It's a sadness that cuts into you, destroys you…. And you've bore it like a scar ever since that trial!"
Every word that came out of her little mouth was right, Simon thought. But in his mind, bearing it was an obligation. However, he started to feel more and more doubt as the visit went on, even feeling a need to justify himself.
With an uncharacteristic sigh, he had said, sounding as if to convince himself rather than Athena, "I did this for Cykes-sama, your mother….. For you…"
This caused all the anger to disappear from Athena. And then, like a flower wilting, she quietly sobbed, giving a reply that was really meant for herself. "I really did it didn't I?" She choked.
Before Simon could let out a reply, Athena practically burst
"Why did you take the fall for me? Why?" "W-was I worth it" her sobs became more child-like, she could barely get her words out. "Why… W-would,"
She was whimpering
Simon put his head down; Athena continued ", Y-you take the fall… for someone so awful."
"Athena, wait-"Blackquill tried to continue, but was again at loss for words.
Throughout the entire conversation, Athena had felt anguish from Blackquill nearly proportional to hers. The usually articulate and composed Blackquill could barely speak or fight back her accusations. She came to the conclusion that his anguish at this moment and since the incident was entirely her fault, upon reaching this conclusion. She covered her face in shame and bolted out.
That was the last he ever saw of her.
The guards rounded the corner, bringing him to the site of his execution. Throughout all of this mental reflection, there was one thing he had neglected, the probable cause of all of this, The Phantom. He had his suspicions, but really had no concrete target. A thought that terrified and humiliated him was that the Phantom could be one of the guards in the prison, or perhaps even a detective, reveling in their victory against him, his anguish.
But it was too late for that, now was the time for his responsibility, his scar, to come to an end.
He had arrived to his destination, the execution sight. The execution would be a hanging, the long-drop method.
It would be a quick and efficient end for his seven-year long suffering.
He was brought up on the platform by the two guards, as this was occurring, several other guards were observing through a transparent sheet of glass from the other room. Throughout the many faces he had recognized from his years in prison, he had noticed one irregularity.
…Fulbright?
It was him, he was sure of it! White suit and all.
What was he doing here? Why is he here? Is it sentiment? If so, why didn't he come to say good bye to me in person?
Those were the thoughts that rushed through his head in his final moments. As he was brought up, the noose was brought upon his head, as they tightened it Blackquill noticed a crucial detail.
He was smiling, no he was grinning… Fulbright was grinning!
Millions of thoughts rushed through his head, ones of realizations and regret. He had realized in that very moment who had been the cause of everything. The shock was so big that his eyes widened.
His eyes widened and the platform gave away immediately, filling the room with a swift and just as fleeting crunch sound.
It was finished; the conflict of seven years had reached its end for Simon Blackquill.
And with its ending, the smile on Bobby Fulbright, which would be one of the last noted things about Bobby Fulbright before his mysterious disappearance the following day, had never been wider.