He was supposed to feel something.
When he heard the news - vague murmurs, fleeting gossip - he couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible; not after fighting her so many times and being witness to what she and her brother could do. And although he knew that it was best to stay away, he looked for her. And find her, he did.
He found her unconscious. Hurt. And just by looking at her he could already tell that the last thing she had felt was excruciating pain.
He was supposed to feel something.
It wasn't easy, sneaking into her hospital room. When she wasn't being checked on by doctors or nurses, then she was being constantly guarded by her brother or her sensei - or both. Neither of them were coping with the situation well; Yang was clenching his sword tightly as if ready to stick it in someone's gut and Master Yo's eyes were tired and unfocused and full of despair. For him to be caught in her room by them was guaranteed pain at the very least.
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity though, both finally left the room to let her rest, giving him a chance to slip through the window and stand on her bedside. It was quiet save for the soft beeps of the heart monitor hooked up to her, and the room smelled strongly of sterilizer and faintly of blood.
He was supposed to feel something.
But what was he supposed to feel?
Was he supposed to feel joy? Satisfaction? Triumph? After all, she was his enemy and the major obstacle between him and absolute power. With her out of the picture, he could easily dispose of the other two and fulfill his destiny of becoming the strongest Woo Foo Warrior that ever lived.
In the end, he hated her.
Or was he supposed to feel anger? Sorrow? Distress? Because underneath all the hatred and lies and manipulation that was their relationship, he craved for her. She belonged to him and he desired her with an almost violent intensity, and no one was allowed to touch her but him. No one.
In the end, he loved her.
So now he was standing beside her, looking down at her broken body and all he could think about was that he was supposed to feel something.
Fury. Glee. Pain. Anguish. Confusion. Anything.
Anything at all.
But he felt
nothing.
