A/N: I STILL don't own D. Gray- man and there are STILL the same warnings.
Hello everyone, I hope you share in my worship of the day that is Friday.
Everyone say Happy birthday to moontoga29's editor...who happens to have nothing to do with this drabble fic...
Anywho, I LOVE the scenes in this chapter (in case you're wondering they are from episodes 16 and 17 with the Millenium swordsman Vittorio) and I hope you do too!
Without further ado, Meiyo, the fifth virtue!
Meiyo
He was taught to be an honourable warrior.
After all, Kanda Yu was a commendable warrior. A worthy warrior.
A respectable warrior.
He was taught to be eternally bound to a warrior's honour. To follow the way of excellence, merit and perfection and follow it even after he sunk to floor, trembling with exhausted limbs and burning lungs, his sword blunt and dull from overuse.
He was taught to be an honourable man.
To be honourable was to earn praise through sweat and blood, to push yourself past exhaustion and pain and to reach for superiority with determination and training. To be honourable was to strive for flawlessness with a fiery passion, with steel to match your sword.
To be honourable was to inspire all who laid eyes on your damaged but never defeated form.
Hot red blood gushed past the sword that the gladiator Vittorio had rooted in Kanda's side and cascaded down into the pool of rainwater on the grassy bottom of the ruins. He collapsed breathlessly into the pool and fell limply to the ground, gasping desperately for refreshing air through the explosion of fire that had erupted in his torso. Distantly he heard a melodic voice scream his name and the sound of footfalls. Despite his waterlogged ears and hazy senses he felt a warmth press onto his chest from the outside, searching frantically for a heartbeat. He found himself smirking defiantly through the pain and discomfort.
"You think I'd die?"
He was taught to be an honourable warrior, not a disgrace.
Kanda Yu was not a disgrace. A disappointment.
A failure.
He was taught to never renounce honour and fall. To never warrant shame or pity even if he died preserving that honour.
He was taught to be an honourable man, not a dishonored one.
To fail was to drift in idleness and lethargy, to condemn yourself through indulgence and complacency and to descend into ill repute and regret. To fail was to be consumed by flaws and weakness in a pit of unforgiving fire.
To fail was to ignite pity in the eyes of those unfortunate enough to see your fallen shadow.
He could vaguely make out the image of a white-haired soldier and an intimidating swordsman battling from the corner of his fading sight. The sea of fire churned in his side as he struggled to his feet. He felt the distinct urge to purge himself of that fire in the nearest corner, but the overpowering urge to stand and fight spurred him forward. But he couldn't stand, couldn't fight. He couldn't do a damn thing.
He had to sit there and watch the tragic battle hopelessly while ignoring the sting of piteous eyes on his back.
"It's not possible…He can't defeat Vittorio."
He was taught to be an honourable warrior.
He was taught not to be reduced to disgrace.
So why did he constantly reject the wonder of onlookers and reduce their wandering gazes to remnants of shadows and ash, all for him?
A/N: Same old same old, I hope you enjoyed, please review, essay from hell. K thanks everyone for reading this!
See you tomorrow with Rei or Respect!
A happy unhello to you all ~ moontoga29