Rites
Suzaku shichiseishi…
I could hate you guys, ya know, for what ya did ta him.
I remember when ya first came here. He was gone then, an' part of me wishes he'd stayed away. There were only two of ya—that purple-haired okama, and the Emperor. 'Course, we didn't know that yet. How could we? Nobody expects the fuckin' Emperor ta just pop up on their doorstep, for cryin' out loud. And that girl with ya—the Suzaku no miko. We didn't know that yet, either.
She's the main reason he left. He could feel his destiny callin', just like the old boss always said he would. He left, an' I got left, too—left behind, and left in charge. I tried to lead the guys the best I could. I never really thought of myself as the boss; I was just holdin' his place.
Then we heard about the war. Some of the guys didn't wanna go, and I laid into 'em for it. I don't remember ever bein' so mad. "We might be bandits," I told 'em, "but, shit, it's our country too, and no fucking Kutou bastards are gonna take it from us!" No one argued after that.
By the time we got there, three of you guys were already dead, includin' the okama—Nuriko, I found out later. That was when I found out who we'd captured when I first met you. Hotohori. The damn fucking Emperor. Heh. Coulda gotten a helluva ransom for him, if we'd known.
Too late now. He died facin' that shithead blond Seiryuu bastard. Then the only two of ya left got outta there too, went to the other world. Ya brought someone back ta me and the guys, I'll give ya that—but it ain't the guy ya took from us.
Ya took Genrou, and ya gave back Tasuki. There's a difference, and all of us know it. Tasuki's—older. There's a pain in his eyes that never goes away now. He didn't used ta be that way. Genrou woulda laughed and shrugged it off. Tasuki can't. Sometimes, I hate him for that. I wanna grab him, shake him, scream in his face, "What'd ya do ta Genrou? What the hell happened ta Genrou, ya bastard?!"
But I can't do that. I know what happened ta Genrou. He grew up. It's weird, watchin' it from the outside, but I guess bein' a Suzaku shichiseishi was a rite of passage for him.
Mine was when the old boss died, and when I had to lead the guys alone. Hakurou. Did'ja know this was gonna happen? Did'ja want this ta happen? I guess ya must have, or ya wouldn'ta told him what that symbol on his arm meant. Ya always did want the best for us, all of us.
But is this really the best for him? I wonder, on those nights when the only company he wants is a bottle of sake and the night stars. I go ta bed late usually, but he's always still sittin' outside, just starin' up into the sky. Times like that, I wish ta the hells I knew what he was seein'.
He won't tell me. An' hell, I may be a rough guy, but I know there are things ya just don't ask about.
You guys made him that way. You an' that girl. So, I could hate ya for it—but I don't. 'Cause ya see, he's one of ya. He always will be, even when he's the only one left. He's still got Chichiri. Whenever the monk comes around, I can see the same loss in their eyes. They both hide it—Chichiri behind that damn mask of his, and Tasuki—Tasuki hides it behind Genrou. But he ain't Genrou, not anymore. I almost wish he'd just stop pretendin' and give me the damn chance ta get used ta what he is now.
I'll miss ya, Genrou. Tasuki's not the same, not the best friend I used ta know. But I guess you're still here. Just different. Life changes people, and I guess I'll just havta get over it an' move on. But I'll never forget ya.
Never.
