(?) If you see this, then I had no idea how to spell the word, so take your best guess :)
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Hope
It is said that the pen is mightier then the sword. This is true, but that means that the strongest force is ideas, that true power is not in hitting something, but changing someone's view. In the end, all that is real, is because we choose to see it.
For Kasumi, this change came about too easily. It was as if the embers of doubt, long contained in her soul, were fanned into a raging fire. She had always thought what the stranger had said, but had never accepted it. It seemed to wrong. So it remained hidden, in an underlaying current that effected all her choices. She thought she could overcompensate, always be positive. That was the main reason she stepped in, as if saving his life in that lab would somehow redeem her's, make her existence meaningful again.
But now all the prisons she had that kept these thoughts in, had been shattered, and this truth, Her truth, came to the surface like black oil covers water. In his blasphemous mouth, out of his irreverent words, came that which she feared the most. It was all so futile.
It had been five minutes scene Vic's speech, and still her head was reeling. Inside herself, she could feel a battle for her very soul, growing:
Why? Why do I try so hard? For what, a brother who tries to kill me, a half sister who hates me, dead parents? Whats the point. Yes but I am alive. In what?! A hell, a daily struggle to survive?! Some life. But you could, they might... They won't stop, he won't stop. Why even fight, what is inevitable, why not just accept it? Because such a death would be dishonorable. honor, fuck honor, honor is why I can't go home, honor is why my brother hates me, what good is honor.
She was on the verge of tears, and not a soul in the world cared. She stood in a room full of people, and was so utterly alone. They were all talking, about how ungrateful Vic was, all of them hiding from what he really said, insulating themselfs in deeper layers of lies. "Fuck them" Kasumi thought, " Fuck them all" and she walked out, not with a loud cry, but an inaudible whimper.
She walked onto the beach, not crying, to sacred to go back into that sea of vanity, to sad and alone to appreciate the scenery. She had tried so hard, and yet it doesn't matter, nothing really does.
She was ready to drown herself, to end it all, when something stopped her. Mike knew and accept these truths, and yet he struggled, daily, to live. Why? She needed to know, some part of her soul, needed to know. And for the first time sense her expulsion from her clain, she felt some purpose, she had a quest now, even if it was a short one, and she would see it through.
She looked up, and for the first time, noticed the beach and the sea and the endless sky, and noticed she was crying. She wiped her tears away with anger. Sillouted(?) in that fading sunlight, she seemed a beckon of hope, a light, in a stormy sea. She seemed to pour out beauty, like she was creating it. And for those brief minutes, in the fading sunlight, she was more god then human. But like all of the other great events in our lives, this passed with not a soul, including her, taking any note.
Then, as if she had simply been an illusion for hungry eyes, searching for hope, she vanished. She would trake Mike down at all coasts, she would complete her quest. She had a purpose, and she felt great. For the first time in eons, her life had meaning again.
She found Vic about a mile away, sitting very near the forest that outlined the wilder part of the island. He was clearly meditating, and from that distance, she could have swore that he had a heavenly oar about him. Like she knew, that he could help her, and for the first time, the fear, all her fears of death and suffering and honor, all faded away. She quickly attributed this feeling, not to fate, but to sheer coincidence. That is, perhaps, the true curse of humans, to ignore that which we know to be important.
She proceeded twords him carefully, as a cat stalks her pray. But when she got within 20 yards, she stopped:
What am I doing? He won't understand, no one ever will. How could he understanding my torment? I was fooling myself into thinking he could help me, no one can. Why did I have to even think he could?
She turned to leave and a voice, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, at the same time said, " I can here you thinking."
She turned, half stunned to see Mike looking at her. It was not a searing glare, not one of contempt or malice, it was one of compassion, with an undefendable sadness that almost brought her to tears. She had been as quite as a mouse, how could he have heard her.
" Tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" He said, in a kindly voice. She couldn't help but think how different he was. He was no longer the harsh robot, who accept death as any normal person accepts life. But he still had that same sadness. The burden on his soul.
As if someone was controlling her, she said, " I bring no honor, with my visit, all it will do is endanger you." Her voice was so sad, as if all the weight of the world rested on her slender, flawless shoulders.
" Surly you jest, such radiant beauty, in and of itself, carries with it honor. Better to die, looking at something beautiful." He said, not with a hint of insincerity, yet at the same time, lacking the quality of falseness that most of those types of comments carry.
" Why?" This was all she could get out, be for she broke down completely into tears. She fell to her knees, like her burden had become to heave for her to bear and just sobbed. It was the most sad noise to exist, it was the sound of a strong spirit, a beautiful and pure and good person, snapping. It was a sound that, to this day, still echos in the heads of whoever was unfortunate enough to hear it.
She was not sure what happened next, she seemed to be floating in misery. But then, as if lightning had stuck, she felt a presence close to her own. She cried, for the first time, she cried, not out of sadness, but of joy. "Someone on this godforsaken mudball cares" She thought joyously. As this worm, carrying, body, sat close to her.
They stayed like that, covered in a comforting dark, just sitting, not saying anything, for what seemed like lifetimes...
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Hope
It is said that the pen is mightier then the sword. This is true, but that means that the strongest force is ideas, that true power is not in hitting something, but changing someone's view. In the end, all that is real, is because we choose to see it.
For Kasumi, this change came about too easily. It was as if the embers of doubt, long contained in her soul, were fanned into a raging fire. She had always thought what the stranger had said, but had never accepted it. It seemed to wrong. So it remained hidden, in an underlaying current that effected all her choices. She thought she could overcompensate, always be positive. That was the main reason she stepped in, as if saving his life in that lab would somehow redeem her's, make her existence meaningful again.
But now all the prisons she had that kept these thoughts in, had been shattered, and this truth, Her truth, came to the surface like black oil covers water. In his blasphemous mouth, out of his irreverent words, came that which she feared the most. It was all so futile.
It had been five minutes scene Vic's speech, and still her head was reeling. Inside herself, she could feel a battle for her very soul, growing:
Why? Why do I try so hard? For what, a brother who tries to kill me, a half sister who hates me, dead parents? Whats the point. Yes but I am alive. In what?! A hell, a daily struggle to survive?! Some life. But you could, they might... They won't stop, he won't stop. Why even fight, what is inevitable, why not just accept it? Because such a death would be dishonorable. honor, fuck honor, honor is why I can't go home, honor is why my brother hates me, what good is honor.
She was on the verge of tears, and not a soul in the world cared. She stood in a room full of people, and was so utterly alone. They were all talking, about how ungrateful Vic was, all of them hiding from what he really said, insulating themselfs in deeper layers of lies. "Fuck them" Kasumi thought, " Fuck them all" and she walked out, not with a loud cry, but an inaudible whimper.
She walked onto the beach, not crying, to sacred to go back into that sea of vanity, to sad and alone to appreciate the scenery. She had tried so hard, and yet it doesn't matter, nothing really does.
She was ready to drown herself, to end it all, when something stopped her. Mike knew and accept these truths, and yet he struggled, daily, to live. Why? She needed to know, some part of her soul, needed to know. And for the first time sense her expulsion from her clain, she felt some purpose, she had a quest now, even if it was a short one, and she would see it through.
She looked up, and for the first time, noticed the beach and the sea and the endless sky, and noticed she was crying. She wiped her tears away with anger. Sillouted(?) in that fading sunlight, she seemed a beckon of hope, a light, in a stormy sea. She seemed to pour out beauty, like she was creating it. And for those brief minutes, in the fading sunlight, she was more god then human. But like all of the other great events in our lives, this passed with not a soul, including her, taking any note.
Then, as if she had simply been an illusion for hungry eyes, searching for hope, she vanished. She would trake Mike down at all coasts, she would complete her quest. She had a purpose, and she felt great. For the first time in eons, her life had meaning again.
She found Vic about a mile away, sitting very near the forest that outlined the wilder part of the island. He was clearly meditating, and from that distance, she could have swore that he had a heavenly oar about him. Like she knew, that he could help her, and for the first time, the fear, all her fears of death and suffering and honor, all faded away. She quickly attributed this feeling, not to fate, but to sheer coincidence. That is, perhaps, the true curse of humans, to ignore that which we know to be important.
She proceeded twords him carefully, as a cat stalks her pray. But when she got within 20 yards, she stopped:
What am I doing? He won't understand, no one ever will. How could he understanding my torment? I was fooling myself into thinking he could help me, no one can. Why did I have to even think he could?
She turned to leave and a voice, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, at the same time said, " I can here you thinking."
She turned, half stunned to see Mike looking at her. It was not a searing glare, not one of contempt or malice, it was one of compassion, with an undefendable sadness that almost brought her to tears. She had been as quite as a mouse, how could he have heard her.
" Tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" He said, in a kindly voice. She couldn't help but think how different he was. He was no longer the harsh robot, who accept death as any normal person accepts life. But he still had that same sadness. The burden on his soul.
As if someone was controlling her, she said, " I bring no honor, with my visit, all it will do is endanger you." Her voice was so sad, as if all the weight of the world rested on her slender, flawless shoulders.
" Surly you jest, such radiant beauty, in and of itself, carries with it honor. Better to die, looking at something beautiful." He said, not with a hint of insincerity, yet at the same time, lacking the quality of falseness that most of those types of comments carry.
" Why?" This was all she could get out, be for she broke down completely into tears. She fell to her knees, like her burden had become to heave for her to bear and just sobbed. It was the most sad noise to exist, it was the sound of a strong spirit, a beautiful and pure and good person, snapping. It was a sound that, to this day, still echos in the heads of whoever was unfortunate enough to hear it.
She was not sure what happened next, she seemed to be floating in misery. But then, as if lightning had stuck, she felt a presence close to her own. She cried, for the first time, she cried, not out of sadness, but of joy. "Someone on this godforsaken mudball cares" She thought joyously. As this worm, carrying, body, sat close to her.
They stayed like that, covered in a comforting dark, just sitting, not saying anything, for what seemed like lifetimes...