#masamun

It sucked. Being a stone’s throw away from home and inevitably never greeting your father a last time? Even an emotionless shell of a dying man felt a shred of sadness. He suffered from a gunshot wound piercing a spot on his heart, blood leaking through the hole where the bullet swept clean through. This man rivaled his own talents; the mystery shooter shot a moving target with perfect accuracy, and he’d walk away hands clean. Lady Luck must’ve chosen a new favorite.

With his heart losing its beat rapidly, he was reduced to scaling the various trees outside the Saika Village, arms extended to percept gaps between barks. Bloodshot eyes were just about useless in the aspect of their normal function, thus sound and touch were the last tools at his disposal. However, as time went on, just the thought of taking a step became painful, and the actual motion increased the pain tenfold. A sad way to die indeed.

But the saddest thing of all? He’d die alone.

He was born alone.

The majority of his life was spent alone.

And to top it off, this journey would end just as it began: alone.

There weren’t any objects concerning the trivial matter. Renegades chose the path of loneliness to keep food on the table, and possibly meet a few others like them on the road. And by meeting these people, the world wouldn’t be as unaccepting as the start of the path. He’d know that first-hand. Assisting the “unpopular” lords created bonds with those you might see once or twice in your lifetime, but even spotting a breathing human meant a lot.

 Speaking of breathing, he wasn’t having the best time completing the most essential and easiest task in life. The extra blood his heart leaked both inside and outside his body was clotting in random areas and blocking arteries as a result. To think, a single shot completely destroyed his entire existence…and this would all happen without a single person knowing. He’d leave this world breaking a promise, a morbid one, but a promise no less. Considering what little words he could speak, what could he change?

Collapsing onto the soft, recently red-tinted grass, the sounds of another’s footsteps met his ears. Sounds of an armored boot rang through the silence, stopping as it approached him. Their master stood there frozen; was it someone who knew him? Everything looked a shade of red and blurry; he couldn’t make out his own hands in front of his face.

 “Hey there…how’re ya?” He greeted, doing his best to smile.

Whoever hovered over him grunted, clicking his tongue in distaste. They stepped closer, kneeling down to meet him at an eye level. Right away he noticed the eye patch covering his right eye, driving his muddled thoughts to speculate who this person might be. The two people he knew who wore an eye patch were his lord, Masamune, and his much taller counterpart who hated his very fiber, Date. This man (ladies weren’t so tall, so it had to be a man observing him) matched his height, so…

“Da…te?”

 “Yeah.” Date replied, gaze narrowing, “I found these thugs talking their prey of the day and I followed your trail here.” He then stifled a laugh, almost seeming amused instead of worried, “You sure know how to up and disappear, Mago. I probably wouldn’t be here if Keiji wasn’t hounding me ‘bout how you suddenly went missing.”

…Keiji was worried? Hmm. He misjudged the actions he took preceding the events that led up to him taking a bullet. Though considering the time they spent together and the sights they shared, any sort of prolonged absence left seeds of doubt in their wake. Doubts aside, why was Date the one to come searching for him?  If Keiji got himself wondering where he left, why didn’t he investigate himself? …Magoichi’s mind couldn’t organize his thoughts anymore. All of his thoughts together were like a puzzle missing hundreds of pieces.

“Ha…figures. He’s such…” The word he wanted to say refused to come out; he let that sentence hang, “Well…at least…I kept…our promise…right?”

Date scowled, his hand instinctively grabbing the hilt of his top left “claw.” Oshu’s Hittou wished the bloody promise he made with Magoichi wouldn’t need to be fulfilled too soon, but he was powerless. No amount of medical attention had a chance of saving Mago after losing vast amounts of blood and the remaining drops clotting to worsen his condition. The crow’s salvation rested on a swift and painless end; a thing their promise ensured.

“Before I hold up my end, something’s bugging me. Why’d you ask me to kill you?” Date asked, hardly understanding Magoichi’s logic, “If you wanted one of your enemies to kill you, why not pick one closer and save me the trouble?”

 Magoichi burst out laughing before his laugh turned into a blood-filled coughing spree; Date stood rooted on the spot. He recovered his breathing after a few more coughs, clearing throat to speak, “’Cause I wanted two things. First, I wanted to die with at least someone I know who doesn’t completely despise me around. At the same time, I wanted this person to hate me enough so he couldn’t care if they killed me. Sounds like you, right?”

 Talking so fluently tore at his lungs, depleting the limited amount of air left inside. Breathing heavily barely gathered the oxygen required to take another breath, and the frequent coughs interrupted the breaths he prepared. If Magoichi wasn’t lying before a “friend,” he’d be crying or screaming out of fear of dying a second time. He once cheated death by enlisting the aid of the Goddess Kaguya, but she left years ago. This time, death meant a permanent end.

…And he couldn’t be any gladder.  

“Date…” Magoichi lifted his head, meeting Date’s lone blue eye, “I’ve got…one last favor.”

“Spit it out.”

“Please…apologize…to Masamune…and Keiji…for me.” A hand shielded his face for a pretty obvious reason, “They’ll be…so pissed…if I don’t…y’know?”

“Hah!” Date smirked, drawing a single blade as Magoichi, without plainly saying, requested, “You’re really somethin’, you know that? Alright, if it makes you happy turning me into your slave in the afterlife, I’ll humor ya one last time. If I meet you in hell a day later, you’ll be greeted by more than one of the Dragon’s Claws next time.”

Date raised his drawn sword, creating a clear path from above his own head to Mago’s neck. Magoichi stood as still as he could, occasionally jerking forward as he coughed his lungs out. His hand shook when he thought what’d be the result of his next move, yet there’s no backing down. Letting a comrade die slowly and painfully wasn’t what leaders did, even if they weren’t men from their clan. 

 “See you in hell, Magoichi.”

Snrk!

~~~~

Riding through the snowy weather of Oshu, Date found it difficult to stop scowling. He “lost” his claw during the trip back home, and turning around and heading back to Sakai was a fool’s action. In the place of an old promise, Date acquired a new one, and from the same idiot who entered his life as fast as he left.