The battlefields of the world have seen many things, many people. Some have only ever passed by, and the others have stayed for a while, making their lives in the battle fields. They have heard many battle cries, many whispered conversations and heated arguments, many promises made and broken and kept. They've seen people win and lose, try to escape or leap right into the fray, both the innocents and willing participants. Their soil has been kicked up by many pairs of feet, many buildings and trees toppled, many weapons and possessions thrown and left abandoned on their grounds. The battlefields have soaked up the blood of many, many creatures, both human and not. There is little that they have not experienced, as a stage of humanity's violence.
As such, loss is no new thing to the battlefields. Seeing so many abandoned, so many losing their lives, the battlefields have dealt with this for millennia. They have seen it too many times to care any longer, assuming that a battlefield of all things is capable of such an abstract human concept such as 'caring'. The battlefields just exist as the space where these things happen, and nothing more than that.
And yet….
And yet, the battlefields have noticed, the absence of one person. Of that one person who breezed through them as if walking down an ordinary street, felling enemies as if it was nothing. The one person who was called the 'Natural Born Slayer' or the 'Genius of Slaughter' by other inhabitants and visitors of all the battlefields of the world, a fitting title considering how seamlessly he appeared to fit into them. They have noticed that his footsteps no longer resonate on the ground, that the motion of his blades no longer cuts through their air on the way to felling another unfortunate, that his voice can no longer be heard. They have heard the whispers and the shouts of the other people, of shocked disbelief and even a little relief. On some battlefields, some people even incorporate his memory into their battle rituals, as if to hope to gain some of his prowess by invoking his spirit. Nothing escapes the battlefields, they've noticed it all. They know, somewhere, somehow, he has left this world and so will never grace any of them with his presence, ever again.
The absence shouldn't affect them. He is not the first legendary warrior to fall, nor will he be the last. Others will pass by briefly or make their lives on the battlefields, other battle cries will ring out, other whispered conversations and heated debates will occur, more promises will be made and kept and broken. Many will try to escape, or jump right in, both innocents and willing participants. The battlefields will continue to have their soil kicked up by pairs of feet, have their buildings and trees toppled, weapons and possessions will be abandoned on them. Blood will continue to soak into them. They will keep experiencing things. Whatever gap this person may have created in this world, it will quickly get filled.
And yet…
And yet, despite this, even though the ability to care is far beyond these places that are little more than a stage, they feel it, keenly. Like an ache, deep and dull, pulsing from the bottom of the hearts they do not have. The people who still visit the battlefields say that there has never been anyone quite like him, and that there probably never will be again, not for the rest of their lifetime. If the battlefields could speak, they'd probably agree. The absence, the loss of this natural, it shouldn't affect them. It is just one of many they've experienced. It is preposterous that the battlefields should do so something ridiculously human as to mourn. And so as each new day and each new battle begin, the battlefields remain as they are, the stage for humanity's violence.
But deep down in the heart they do not have, they know the truth.
A note about the title: It's the name of the Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau/Children of the Whales ED song. It means 'incomplete colour' (though I've seen it translated as 'half-cold purple'). I picked this as a title not so much because of, well, the song's title, but more because that song, to me, evokes the sort of mood this particular fic has. I actually ended up dropping Children of the Whales by EP9, but I love the ED song. Also I couldn't think up a better title for this one.