MOTHER & MONSTER

“War is a beast. But what weighs you down on its own should not damn you forever, I believe. All the wars I’ve known in my youth were perpetuated by greed. They were waged to suppress, control, and exploit.”

Peace was a fragile thing, but only because the condition of humanity seeking to protect peace was fragile on itself. He knew this, saw how quick the tide could turn on the whims of a few.  Peace was easy fought for, or at least was easy to claim to be fought for, but it was infinitely harder to keep, and not all wars were fought for peace. No, one could say that war was waged despite peace.

Warriors themselves, what could their value be if not outside of battle? He knew what value they possessed, because he’d also longed to find an answer for his purpose if not a weapon. In his search, he’d come to what he held as answer.

“Your form is not hideous, Minamoto. And no one said that the righteousness of a cause should exonerate its sin. It certainly can never bring relief to our guilt, I still feel it clawing at my heart. But it’s more folly to gaze upon your form and not see in it the markings of a human. And you have worth beyond a warrior, in the worth that all who are born and raised naturally possess.” He shows a smile.

“If you who’ve fought for a righteous cause cannot partake in the peace that you sow in war, what hope is there in me, when all my life my cause has not been peace, but a petty need to see vengeance enacted on those in power? Many speak of me as a liberator, but I’ve always only had the intentions of a destroyer. Tell me, do you believe my claim for peace is more justified? Are these feelings of yours set on an immutable morality, or are they the deprecating feelings of a guilty conscience?”

She had not meant for her words to to cast doubt upon his fate. Self-denial and self-ruination were all that she had meant to sew by waxing as she had about the life of a soldier. But of course, she was no stranger to foolishly harming others out of bitterness towards herself. Perhaps if he had left things at that, she would have been humbled enough to bite her tongue for more than a mere moment or so. Unfortunately, his final rebuke made it quite impossible. 

Irregardless of whether or not it was done with any ill-intent, it was endlessly agitating for others to unravel her being. 

“It is different.” She finally uttered, with a confidence that was more forced than it was earnestly believed. “We are different, too, you and I.”

After all, men and monsters lived by different rules. To see righteousness in one and wickedness in the other, even as they marched in step to the very same drum, was not a demonstration hypocrisy. No, her morality was absolute in it’s belief that while the former was boundless in it’s potential, the other was damned from the start. 

Could it even be called mere self-hatred, when it had been nurtured so fully by her father, until at last it became all that she was?

“Oh! Change of plans! If you’re spinning me, perhaps hand me your blade first, if it is not too forward to ask. Then I’ll draw mine, and dual wield. While you spin me around, I’ll swing both swords around! We’re swordsmen, so our technique needs to use swords! It’ll be so impressive that Master surely must praise us!”

Affection is the endgame. Amazing that getting the validation you never got in life becomes addicting! Wild, right?

“Though, it should be saved as a last resort. And only if Hachi- er, Benkei isn’t watching. Should he see me getting swung around like a top, or gods forbid, getting dizzy or ill, I’d have to end him to end my embarrassment.” As if she needed an excuse to bully Benkei… 

“Still, I suppose bloodsport would bring a bad taste to Lord Kintoki’s mouth. The man is sporting to a fault… And if one of the younger servants were to be your opponent, the match may as well be forfeit.”

A dual-wielding, spinning toss — like a hurricane of razors, releasing it’s blades upon the wings of a deadly swallow. Undoubtedly, there were many who would have regarded the entire thing as absurd beyond reason. Raikou, however, merely nodded wordlessly as the younger Rider detailed her vision. Whether or not it was fully viable remained to be seen, but there was no reason to believe that they wouldn’t be able to iron out any flaws after a little bit of practice.

The Berserker felt her thoughts shift away for a moment, as she further considered the logistics. Though while she merely nodded along as Ushiwakamaru discussed her concerns regarding her stalwart retainer, Raikou’s ears perked up as the subject of facing off against younger opponents was broached. Obviously, it was an area that required some words from her. 

“I won’t wholly deny your supposition. It’s true, after all, that I don’t have much desire to clash against any of the younglings — or at least not in any serious capacity. But if it’s just something akin sparring or the like, then I do not think that it would be an issue for me. I am well accustomed to those sorts of things.”

Granted, tag team wresting bore not even so much as a hint of resemblance to the training of which she spoke. But perhaps with a bit of practice, and some serious restraint, she could come to view it in that manner. Perhaps.  

“They say that children are quick to mend.” Even as Raikou spoke, her gaze remained affixed upon the deft fingers which carried out her work.

By no means was she a medic of any outstanding skill — a fact well demonstrated by the roughness of her manner — it just happened to be the case that she knew her way around proper field dressing. Most veteran warriors came to dabble in such things eventually. Allowing oneself to languish in ignorance on the subject of how to save a life, was rarely a mistake that could be left unsolved once bitterly made apparent.

“Surely they must know it for themselves, too. That’s why they always scamper right off, just after bruising their knees. The pain may sting, but it is far outweighed by the anticipatory pleasure of whatever little game they’ve set themselves upon indulging in.”

“Eventually, though, they notice the scars that have been left behind. Contrary to the belief of many, those sorts of things are not worth celebrating. They mount up more quickly than the eyes can catch, and sooner or later they’ll make your body ache something fierce. You’ll find yourself longing, too, for all of the flesh that you were too stubborn to cherish as you should have.”

The mountains were fierce and impartial things — bound to take their toll from all, eventually. What sense was there in rushing things? Especially in pursuit hollow and fleeting treasures.

    Free help was certainly not something one should take for granted. Not that this was a case of volunteer work— it was more akin to servitude, even if Rinnosuke didn’t exactly like the sound of that. Especially so when it was coming from such an important historical person…

Still, the half-human had his limits. And making executive decisions such as sending the Heroic Spirit to wait outside until business was finished was the nicest thing he could have done. … Even if it was a waste of a command seal.

“… Good grief.” After a moment, the wooden door to Kourindou’s warm interior would be opened. “Deciding just by looks alone isn’t good for business. And also, if you’re cold, you could have just borrowed one of my padded kimono.”

    Looking at the general with a slight frown, he holds the door open for her.

“Come in and settle by the heater, then.”

“Ah, that is quite alright.” Raikou shook her head, as she passed by the white-haired clerk and made her way into the store proper. “In truth, I was exaggerating my discomfort somewhat, in the hopes that it would further encourage you to open the door.” 

Her words lacked so much as a hint of shame, with the gentle smile that crossed her lips demonstrating a similar absence. By some standards, it was a level of audaciousness that could almost be seen as admirable. Albeit, those who might hold such a view were mostly distanced from more common points of view.

“Likewise, as I said, a bit of quiet self-reflection has enabled me to view some of the shortcomings that were reflected in my manners earlier. Kappa are not pleasant, but they are also quite far from being the most irksome of yokai. I shall make an effort to reserve my animosity for those who’d be much more likely to cause trouble — oni and tengu and the like.” 

Do you ever catch yourself suddenly thinking about old writing partners who’ve disappeared? People with whom you — maybe — weren’t especially close, but people whom you cared about all the same? It’s really odd to think how in this digital age, it’s still so easy to completely lose touch with people who used to brighten your day. Though of course, the memories remain; alongside such ethereal things, old and dusty blogs as well. 

It can be such a bittersweet sort of nostalgia, but it’s nice to look back on things sometimes. I don’t think of myself as someone who has a vibrant impact on others, but all the same I do hope that — every now and then — those people think back on the memories we made together, and smile just a bit. I know I do, too, even if it’s hard not to feel a bit sad at the same time.

“I don’t believe that to be so,” he answers after pondering the question for a moment. “If you are chained to the past, then the future becomes a sanctuary. Living only for the future only makes sense in that case.”

He settles down where he sits. A small amount of time passed in silent reprieve, until a further amount of contemplation had been fulfilled. Then, in that moment, silence was broken with words.

“There’s always room. A warrior should fight to attain peace, not to extend war. That’s the difference between a warrior and a warmonger. And in that peace, there is always room for everyone. Room for a warrior. Room for you. I think that if peace can’t be given to all equally, then it’s only a worthless peace and not true peace. No matter how you change, the end is the same.”

“I can’t say that I haven’t heard those words before, nor can I say that I haven’t tried to believe in them. Certainly, that’s how it was during my later years as a mortal.” 

She had pushed herself to the edge time and time again, hoping that in triumphant glory, she might be able to revel in the peace that she had earned. Ah, but it was never so simple. Peace was a fragile thing, and warriors were a commodity that was ever short in supply. To take up arms anew, at the urging of others, became cyclical. Until at last, she needed no urging — mechanical muscle memory became enough to spare any strains on any throats. 

Who even was she, when at last the day came than she could sheathe her blade for good? Not the same little girl who had eagerly donned her armor and readied for the vanguard so long ago, that much was for certain.