I DON'T OWN THE TEEN TITANS.
I DO OWN THE PLOT OF THIS STORY.
(NOTE: THIS IS DEDICATED TO MY DAD. IT'S ALSO DEDICATED TO HOW DARK AND SAD LIFE WOULD BE IF YOU HAD NOTHING).
IS IT WORTH IT?
10 YEARS AGO, JUMP CITY HOSPITAL (RAINING)…
In the corridor, outside a private patient room, Conor Mc Machen, a black hair sallow skin young Irish teen, sat impatiently. He did everything he could to past the time. Every second that past seemed like a decade. He looked down at the floor continuously until someone sitting beside him.
"Hey. I thought you might want a drink."
Conor looked to his side and gave a slight smile to Tenchu, Kiaro's brother, and one of Conor's dearest friends. Tenchu was offering him a plastic cup of what seemed to be tea. Conor took a sip and tried his best not to spit it back out.
"Ugh…what the freaking hell in that?"
"A bit of whiskey. Irish whiskey. I thought you might be used to it."
"This might surprise you and your fellow Japanese friends, but not all us Irish folk are addicted to alcohol."
"Yeah. The rest of you are addicted to cigarettes."
Conor gave Tenchu the middle finger and they both busted out laughing. Conor ended the happy moment with a rather sad question.
"How is she?"
Tenchu didn't say anything. He just unfolded a newspaper. On the front page was a large picture of Conor in Kendo (Japanese sword fencing) gear. The headline read: 'Celtic Samurai'.
"The news is already out. They're calling you the Irish version of Miyamoto Musashi (famous samurai). I still can't believe that you won by practicing with your sword, that your father made for you."
Conor looked to his side. Tilted against his side was his trustful sword like a loyal dog. Gleaming in the light, the engraving seemed to be fresh and new.
"How is she?" Conor repeated himself.
Tenchu seemed to be ignoring Conor.
"Blah, blah, blah…the tournament started on Friday Evening and ended on Sunday Morning…blah, blah, blah…over twenty Kendokas competed for the grand prize of two thousand dollars…blah, blah, blah…oh, here we go. The winner, Conor Mc Machen, age sixteen, won against his opponent by dealing a strike towards the head area. Wow, look here. On page five they got a wonderful shot of you in mid strike."
Conor was beginning to get angry.
"Tenchu! Don't fuck with me! How is she?" he snapped.
Tenchu took a deep sigh. He turned to Conor and looked him in the eyes.
Conor's eyes were very unique. They changed color in different brightness of light and when ever he felt different emotions. In the light of the corridor, his eyes were grayish-green.
"She was shot. She was trying to steal something. A piece of weapon technology. Don't ask why, because I have no clue. They fired multiple shots. She lost a lot of blood. They given her pain-killers, but even with those she's in total agony."
"Can I see her?"
"Yeah. I'm going home anyway. I got to take care of my grandmother. Take care Conor."
Conor got up and walked in the room that he sat outside of all day. By this time it was night, and it was still raining.
An eerie blue glow seemed to fill the room. The light reflecting off the blue curtains of the room probably caused it.
Conor stepped to the side of the bed. He looked down on Kiaro like a guardian angle. His eyes were now a bright glowing brown. He was sad.
"I love it when you have brown eyes. It makes you seem like a little cute puppy dog." Kiaro said, trying her best to hide her pain but was failing ungracefully.
She looked to his side and noticed his sword. Conor saw that she was looking at it.
"I never leave the orphanage without it."
All this chatter was only wasting time for Conor.
"Why did you do it Kiaro? Why?"
Kiaro took a shallow breath in. She didn't have long left.
"My father. He said if I didn't do it, I would bring shame and dishonor to my family and our ancestors. He said that he needed it for his new project. He's making a robot army for some strange reason."
Conor was in disbelieve. It sounded too farfetched to be true. Like something out of a cartoon or something.
"Conor. Do me a favor."
"Anything."
"Kill me."
Conor drew out his sword, held it high and mumbled the words; "I love you."
He was about to strike, until 'someone' grabbed him around his stomach and forced him to drop his sword. It was a bulky figure in a trench coat.
Then a man in a grey suit walked into the room, accompanied by more bulky figures in trench coats. It was Mr.Yamagushi, Kiaro's father. Mr. Yamagushi walked over to Kiaro's bedside.
"I'm sorry father. I have failed you." Kiaro said weakly.
"Kiaro! You have nothing to be sorry for. It's not you fault. He forced you to do it." Conor yelled as he tried to break free.
Mr. Yamagushi pulled a small injection needle out of his inside pocket. He pierced it into her skin. Only a few seconds later, Kiaro began to wail in agony uncontrollability.
"Pain killers aren't good enough for you. I renounce you as my child."
Conor felt like daggers were stabbing him as he heard Kiaro's roars of anguish.
"How could you do that to your daughter? You're as cold and heartless as a piece of wet slade."
Mr. Yamagushi stood there looking at Conor.
"What was that last word you? 'Slade', was it? I like the sound of. Yes. It has a ring to it."
Conor used this opportunity to break free of the bulky figure's grip. He quickly grabbed his sword and slashed the person across the chest area.
The person didn't bleed.
Instead, the trench coat fell and revealed that the figure was a robot. All of the figures were robots.
Conor wasted no time wondering to himself. He sprang forward and slashed them all to bits. In under a minute, the room was filled with scrap. In ecstasy of instinct, he whirled and hoped to end Kiaro's pain. But he was amazed to find that his blade was stopped by another, which was held by Mr. Yamagushi.
"I see I'm not the only one who doesn't leave home without a sword." Conor said surprised, but tried to keep his emotions in check.
High-pitched rings echoed through the hospital as the two did battle. The only sound that could be heard besides this was Kiaro's screams.
Conor stepped to his side, dragged his sword with him, and managed to slash Mr. Yamagushi's forearm.
"Tell me child. Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"First off, I'm not a child. And second, lets just say that the 'Celtic Samurai' has a sparing partner in Gothem."
Mr. Yamagushi soon over whelmed his opponent and pinned him to the ground.
"The way I see it, you have two options. Like two sides of a coin." He began, "I'll spare Kiaro, if you become my… 'Apprentice'."
"And the other option?"
A smirk soon grew across Mr. Yamagushi.
"Fight me. Die. And let Kiaro suffer."
But then, both of them released that Kiaro had stopped screaming.
It was too late to save her. She was dead. Conor failed to fulfill her last dying wish. Whether he spent the rest of his live as himself or as an apprentice, it didn't matter. He couldn't live with himself.
He broke free of Mr. Yamagushi's hold, drew his sword, held it high, and plunged it deep into himself.
With his last breath, he told Mr. Yamagushi the words that Conor's father told him before he too past on.
"Death is the third side of the coin."
Mr. Yamagushi stood there. He looked around and took it all in.
"Slade." He said aloud to himself, "It has a very nice ring to it."
I'M SORRY IF I SPELT SOME OF THE NAMES WRONG (MOST LIKELY I DID)…PLEASE READ ON (UNLEAST IT'S GOTTON TOO DARK FOR YOU.)?