He was confused, that was the best way to put it. Was he really that cold to people, that they automatically categorized him as heartless and solitary? The latter was true, he knew. He would have preferred being by himself to in a crowd any day, socializing was not on his list of favorite things. But heartless, that wasn't true. He had a heart… it was just buried under all those feelings of anger, hatred and knowledge of bloodshed, death and revenge. It was there somewhere.
He sighed. Kasumi and Ayane… they both had to make the job harder, didn't they? He was a ninja. Emotions were simply something to bypass, bury. You couldn't let emotions get in the way of the task at hand. They were weak, weren't they?
He thought of the comments they had said, both had made more of an impact then he would have liked, which might have proved something…
Oh well, I suppose being alone for so long can do that to people…
I suppose that if Hayate hadn't mentioned this protecting thing to you, and you saw me dying on the street, you'd just kick my body and continue walking?
He was beginning to feel sad now. He hadn't felt like this since… she had died. It wasn't anybody's fault, it was an accident… or that was what he had been told. He still missed her bitterly, leaving her one day, and just the day after… no!
Stop thinking that. You don't want to think that.
He tried to pull himself together. What was going on? It was just two stupid shinobi, one who was too blindly loyal to her brother to see the fact that running away as she had done was basically suicide, and the other who was too blindly loyal to her own feelings and hatred. He didn't understand either of them.
Hayate, I need you here. You would know what to do. Or Irene, you would know as well. Why don't I know? Always so dependant… I need other people to answer my questions. That is utterly pathetic, for certain.
He angrily raised his fist and brought it smashing down. The glass which was underneath his hand shattered with the impact of the blow. Shards of glass imbedded into his hand except he didn't care, simply pulling them out with the other hand. Doing that had lessened the amount of thoughts and questions running through his mind, thoughts which haunted him and questions which he couldn't answer. Perhaps the solitary life was beginning to take its toll?
Yet… that girl. He shook his head. Ayane. He knew her, but couldn't remember a lot about her. She seemed to know what she was doing, unlike Kasumi, who was still innocent in many ways; she must have been battle hardened. He remembered her icy russet colored eyes staring at him as he spoke to her earlier, flashing with anger. Why couldn't he remember her? He knew that he had known her, but…
When she had thrown the knife at him… tremendous speed. He had looked at her, concerned, wondering why she had done it. Claiming that she had thought that he was going to attack her was a poor excuse, not only was he basically unarmed, she would have seen or sensed some movement from him, of which there had been none, or none threatening at least.
There must have been something seriously wrong with him, he decided sadly as he walked across the small hotel room to his bed. Sitting down on it, he frowned suddenly.
Yeah, maybe. Me and the rest of the world.