Anonymous said: Seiroku, you were prepared for Soma to die since you met him, weren't you? Why are you surprised he died?
" . . . "
Yes. But no. When Seiroku had first met Soma, it had been with the intent to stain the ground and rivers red with blood. He would gather all the valuable pieces of information to report back, and then carnage would ensue. It had been as simple of a plan as that. He had chocked on rage and hatred to play his part, all while plotting a grand massacre. He hadn't just prepared for the idea of Soma dying. He'd been it's originator. It had been his idea to spy on the Dates. Many of the other clans were easier to throw into chaos or sow seeds of discord into ; the Date had been the greatest threat of them all. They had numbers, strength, and discipline that others lacked.
And then he'd forgotten. Bit by bit, his original plot had faded like ink left too long in the sun until there was nothing left of it. Nothing of it remained in Seiroku's heart. And as time passed, he'd selfishly indulged in the idea that he could have this life. He liked the idea that he could stay by Soma's side and the Date. The longer he stayed the more he could forget the hatred that used his body and his name; the more the real him that could have been was let free to flourish.
The more time passed, the more Seiroku hoped for the Date's success. He never forgot his hatred for other bushi. But to them alone, he hoped for their success. Despite how the thought felt like betraying himself after so many years lost in the waters of rage, he had hoped.
The more time passed, the more he considered his own death. ( Because that is what would have to happen, and he would let it. )
Soma's death was not an option. It was delusional hope. Seiroku tilts his chin up slightly, jaw clenched as he forces his tears to not fall. It was pure, delusional hope that they could ever have a happy ending. He knew better ; but he had yearned for it so desperately that he'd indulged in the fairytale. He wanted to believe there was a way for the Date to stay safe, for Soma to stay safe. But the Obsidian Eight's success would mean their demise ; their success would mean Seiroku's demise.
He knew one of their death's would come. But be prepared for it? No. Seiroku hadn't been prepared for that in a long time. Because it wasn't supposed to happen.
" Why? " Seiroku lifts his eyebrows. " Because his strength is legendary, plus he had the benefit of a black heart without risk of insanity since he's so new. He's stronger than any of the other new people we've had in a long time. " Lies. It's all a bunch of lies. Seiroku couldn't care less about the legends and stories of Soma's strength. He knew it but that wasn't the reason. That wasn't the reason at all. Why was he surprised? Because Soma was never supposed to die. Because that was the man he loved. That was reason enough to believe he'd never die. Seiroku didn't want him to die. Maybe that's what doomed Soma more than anything else. The world loved to take and break everything that Seiroku cared about, to crush any chance Seiroku could have at being anything more than a beast of hatred. Soma wasn't supposed to die. He was. He told Soma where to stab him. It was supposed to be him that died.
But the answer he gave was Black dog like, wasn't it? It was something he would have said before meeting Soma, right? Right? Why wasn't he sure anymore? How could months replace decades of hatred? Who......was he? Who was Seiroku Inukawa anymore? It'd been easier. When he killed his past self full of optimism and taken a new name. Seiroku Inukawa was a monster. But now Soma had known him as Seiroku too. Now he wasn't sure who he was, monster or loved.
" I mean, who would expect a red bushi like him to - " die. It's a single word, and Seiroku can't say it. He knows it. But he can't say it. He swallows and looked away. " Most of the obsidian eight go mad, though battle is the next most common. " Facts, he needs facts to stop his pain for bleeding everywhere. " So of course it was a surprise. Especially given who he was against. Guess we should've killed that general sooner. " He says, but the words are flat and his heart isn't in it.
