Legato's Story
I had the inspiration for this as I was driving down the freeway to work one day. Lame, I know. As I was passing by a particularly noisy semi I suddenly thought "You know, they never mention Legato's past. I wonder what made him so psychotic?". Yes, I think about anime. Anyway, being the weirdo I am, I thought "Well shoot, I'll just write it myself!". So I have. And here it is!
Just consider this an intermission from the usual story.
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Legato's gaze watched as another sandstorm blew against the sturdy glass pane of the window. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in a sadistic smile. His latest game had him almost excited. He couldn't wait to see the next act. And yet...
Nights like this always made him nostalgic. It brought back memories of things he never wished to remember, but that never ceased to come back to haunt him.
Usually he ignored them, pushing them to the farthest corners of his mind. But tonight? Something in the air had him thinking. And since his captives were both...incapacitated at the moment, it gave him time to relive the past...
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My name is Legato Bluesummers. I am a hunter of man. One who searches for the elusive raven known as death. I could say I have killed hundreds without the slightest hint of exaggeration: and I enjoyed each and every one of them. Pain was my pleasure. Nothing quite brought a smile to my face like the sight of freshly harvested blood pouring across my fingertips.
I wasn't always this way, however.
I was an orphan. I do not know what happened to my parents, only that I was raised by the streets. Perhaps they deserted me. Perhaps they were murdered. I often speculated what could have happened. I fantasized that someday they would come back, apologetic and pleading for forgiveness, and give me the home that I so badly longed for.
For the first five years of my life I was taken in by a bar maid, who spent her time off sleeping with any rich man that came her way. When I asked her why she did it, she merely shrugged, and told me that "it kept bread on the table". She let me live in her small, grungy flat. I had a small closet in the hallway. By hiding me away, I wouldn't have to interact with her 'clients'. I guess she thought it wasn't proper for a child to witness the consumation of the human race; but the walls were thin, and for years after the grunting and bed thumping would replay in my memory, haunting me. Once, I left my 'room', thinking it was safe, only to find her still 'working'. I was horrified. I remember how dirty I thought the whole thing was. And really, it was. I vowed that I would never participate in such a disgusting act.
One night, as I lay awake listening to the usual noises, I heard something new: a scream. It wasn't the usual scream. It was a painful scream. It frightened me, so much that I couldn't move from where I lay. Then another scream came, cut off by the sickening sound of choked gurgling. Then I heard laughter. Sick, twisted laughter; laughter that would remain in my memory for years, taunting me.
Once I found the courage to move, I tentively creaked open the door. I could hear soft, muttered whispers. They were not in the voice of my caretaker, so I moved out to investigate. I had always been warned not to leave the room when I heard the voice of someone else, but I was worried.
What I saw only further scarred my psyche: blood, lots of blood. It was soaking the sheets of my caretakers sheets to the point that their soft lavendar color was practically nonexistant. There was a knife lying next to the dirty mattress that served as a bed.
What damaged me the most was what was on the bed. Her latest lover now held her knife torn body to him, stroking her blood soaked hair, whispering into her ear. Her lifeless eyes were staring in my direction, her mouth in an open-mouthed stare that burned itself into my memory.
At the sound of my shocked gasp, he turned to me. He was not an attractive man. I distinctely remember his balding hair, and protruding stomach. But he had to have a large wallet, or else he wouldn't have been let in.
His eyes had narrowed dangerously. His bloodless lips moved, emitting no sound, as he reached for the knife, refusing to let go of the body he held clutched to him.
I was angry. I remember that more than anything. I suddenly had a burning sense of rage welling up inside me. My breathing became labored. I could almost sense an aura of black floating around me like a cloak.
Then something in me snapped. I couldn't explain it. My eye twitched, and suddenly he was plunging the knife into his heart. Somehow, his dying scream made me smile.
That night I merely left the apartment I called home. I took nothing with me. I didn't touch the bodies. I just left, with no clear destination.
I ended up wandering around several small cities, eating from garbage cans and stealing when I could. I was beaten whenever I was caught, which was quite often. I began to become numb to the pain however.
When I was age 12 I realized that I had never asked the woman who had taken care of me exactly where, or how she had found me. I suppose I was never destined to find out.
I ended up taking roots for a few years in a tiny city west of New Oregon. I was happy there. I even made friends with a couple of merchants who would make sure to leave some leftover food on the doorstep when they closed shop. I was the closest to happy that a messed up child could be.
The summer of my 17th year found me sitting aside a fountain, feasting on a piece of leftover chicken and watching the sunset. At the time my hair was long, and shaggy, and my attire consisted of an extremely worn shirt, and ripped pants. Neither had been washed for god knew how long, so I can only assume that my stench reached the furthest ends of the small town.
It was in that dust ridden city, on that cold, windy night, that I met Karine.
Karine was the daughter of a local rich man. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and rich. This made her the target of every male speciman in the entire town.
I remember the way she looked when she walked up to me. She was smiling. Her smile was beautiful. It was the one thing in the world that seemed to make the dark clouds go away. And she was young. Only 16 years old, and she had already been proposed to 6 times.
"Hello there" she had said, "I'm Karine. What's your name?"
I had stared at her. Surprisingly enough, no one had ever asked me that. The woman who had once taken care of me had called me "Samson", a name I had never cared for.
Rather than a quick, biting remark, however, I found myself telling her "I don't have a name".
She had looked at me quizzically, almost seeking to see if I was lying. She must have decided I wasn't, though, because she sat down next to me, turning to study my dirt-smudged face. Her smile was still there, lighting up her emerald green eyes. I couldn't help but notice the way her long dark hair had flowed over her shoulder. I almost wanted to reach out and touch it.
She must have been curious as to why I was nameless, but she didn't ask. Instead, she thought for a minute, and finally declared:
"Your name should be Legato!"
My name wrinkled at the strange name "What?"
"It's a musical term. It's where the notes move in a very smooth, even style. It reminds me of your voice. So, I'm going to call you Legato!"
I stared at her. "You're a very strange girl" I said bluntly.
She merely continued to smile "You're rather new to town, aren't you? I remember someone talking about you coming around about a year ago. I've lived here my whole life."
She just kept on like that. Chattering away like there wasn't a care in the world. At first it annoyed me, and I had plotted ways to make her leave me alone. Then, something changed. I found something magical in the sound of her voice, the light in her eyes. I noticed that the world didn't seem as dark, or lonely, with her around.
"Hey! I'm really hungry. I bet you are too. Look at how skinny you are! Would you like to come to my house for dinner?"
She didn't really let me answer. She simply grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet. For some reason, I just went with her. I let her hook her arm through mine and lead me through the streets to her rather large house.
Her family graciously let me in, sharing with me the food they had. Karine chattered on endlessly throughout the entire meal, but I merely sat there watching her. She was...mesmerizing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her for a second.
That night she had refused to let me leave. Instead, her family lent me one of their guest rooms. It was the first time I had ever really slept in a real bed. It was very soft, almost uncomfortable. But for the first time in my life I felt safe, and I slept soundly.
The next day I awoke to her lovely face as it poked its head into my doorway to announce that we were going shopping. I openly refused to accept her charity, insisting that she had already done far too much, but she wouldn't let me go. So, I consented.
She bought me clothes. I blushed at the whispers we got as we strolled down the walkways, her arm in mine once again.
"Isn't that the Bluesummers' daughter? Who's that vagrant she's with?"
"Don't tell me she's fond of him! He's nothing but a street rat!"
She noticed my down trodden look, of course, and merely smiled and patted my arm.
"Let them say what they want," she told me softly, "They're not happy unless they have someone to talk about."
That night, at her house, her parents exclaimed at how well I 'cleaned up'. They insisted I become a semi-permanent guest at their house, until I could find a place of my own. I knew that this decision came because of Karine's insistence, but I didn't dare refuse.
The days spent at her house were a blur. We spent many days in her family's private library after Karine learned of my hunger for knowledge. I had learned to read from the newspapers I used to pick up here or there, but I was never able to get my hands on any real books. Karine liked to watch me as I sat enthralled in another novel. Anytime I looked up at her she would be smiling. I soon realized that her gaze made me blush, though I was never sure why.
One night, about a month after I had started to stay at her house, she kissed me. I was stunned. Too stunned to move. For once, she wasn't smiling. In fact, she looked scared.
"Legato...I love you"
Now I was even more stunned. Love? She loved me? The vagrant? The dirty street rat? I didn't even have a name, aside from the one she gave me.
And yet...something changed in me when she said that. I didn't feel as dirty inside. It was almost as if....as if...
"I love you too, Karine."
She looked visibly relieved. She launched herself into my arms. My arms instinctively returned the favor. It was then I realized that I loved her too. That I loved her. It was a huge surprise to me, when I had thought myself dead of all emotion. And yet it was true. My whole heart belonged to Karine, from the day she came up to me and said hello. I didn't think it was possible. But I was happy. For the first time in my life, I was really happy.
A week later came an even bigger surprise:
"Legato...I want to marry you"
She told me this as we lay entwined on a bench in their small, outdoor garden. At first I wasn't sure I heard her right, but when the silence began to stifle us both, I realized that not only had I heard her right, but that she was serious.
All I could manage to tell her was "Alright"
It was a very small ceremony. Surprisingly, her family didn't object. In fact, they seemed happy for us, and I was welcomed into the family. Since I had no last name of my own, I took on theirs instead. From that day on, I was 'Legato Bluesummers'. I couldn't describe how happy I was. I was in love with the most amazing girl, and I now had a family. I felt complete.
One night, however, we finally got into our first fight. It was a nasty one. I said things I shouldn't have said, as did she. We screamed, so loud that her parents awoke to hear her storming out of the house.
I gave myself time to calm down before I went after her. I wished a thousand times afterwards that I hadn't. When I ran out of the house to find her, I couldn't. She was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere I could think of: her favorite clothing store, the bar, even her favorite spot out in the desert. I was worried sick, but I decided that I wasn't going to find her on my own. I was on my way back to the home we shared with her parents when I heard it: the scream. The same scream I had heard 12 years ago...
I ran, but not quick enough. I arrived two minutes too late.
"This is what you get for marrying that street rat rather than a worthwhile man like me. You deserve to die like this"
Those words, carried by a gruff, male voice, filtered to me from an ally way. When I arrived, a figure ran off, leaving my dearest Karine lying in a pool of her own life's blood.
I ran to her, falling to my knees and gathering her limp body to me. She was dead. Already starting to get cold. Her whole body was littered with knife holes. Much in the same fashion as my caretaker.
I wailed. I could do nothing else as I rocked back and forth, clutching her broken body. My howls of pain reached the sleeping town. However, the first one to find me was my beloved's parents.
They were in as much shock as I was. Ashamed, I readied to tell them what had happened, when...
"I knew we shouldn't have let our daughter near a dirt ridden demon like you!!' her father accused, screaming for the local police.
I was confused. What did he mean? Then I realized...
"It wasn't me!" I cried.
Not that it mattered. I was just the nameless street retch, who had lost his temper and killed his wife. I wasn't even given a trial. They merely threw me in prison. It was two months that I rotted there before I was told about Karine's pregnancy.
It didn't hurt, though, when they told me. I was numb. My last scrap of humanity died with Karine, buried away six feet under the sand, never to be touched or held again. Hate welled up inside me, replacing my numbness. The way I felt before Karine was doubled 10 fold.
One night I killed the guards and broke out. It was easy. All I had to do was make them use their own pistols on themselves, and suddenly I was free. I laughed.
That night I met Knives Million, who offered me a deal if I would join with him. His plan excited me. It was just the oppurtunity I was looking for. I could give back all the pain that life had given me. They would pay. They would all pay...
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Legato's head softly hit against the window. He cursed the salty, stinging tears that stung his golden eyes. His hand reached out to press against the coldness of the glass, applying so much pressure that it cracked, splitting his skin as easily as a thin sheet of people.
"Karine..." His voice whispered to the night, "What have I become?"