Who was he again?
He had no answer to that question.
Shirasu Kinjou?
No… Shirasu had died long before.
Kotarou Fuuma?
No… Kotarou had disappeared with the corpses of his clansmates.
As far as he was aware he was simply a man falling to his death.
With all that occurred, it was only fair that he died pitifully in failure.
The crack in the earth proved to be the perfect way to do so.
His white hair fell over his purple eyes as he plunged headfirst.
All alone in this suffocating darkness.
All...alone...
He down at his feet to try to see the place he'd fallen from (since he'd fallen headfirst).
To where the Kumo Brothers probably still were.
They must hate him now.
He knew.
Or at least he thought.
Those three had always been the most difficult to interpret.
Yet the times spent with them were warm.
He was a halfie, that was all he was.
He was Shirasu Kinjou and Kotarou Fuuma.
And yet he was also neither.
A soul that belonged nowhere.
Never resting.
Always wishing for…
…...
The end was coming now.
He sensed the ground closing in.
He closes his eyes and hears a voice ring out in his head
"Shirasu-san, you were my other older brother."
His eyes widened.
It was Soramaru.
"Shirasu… although I can't forgive you for what you've done…"
"Stop it…" He whispered.
"I want to see you again."
The ground was hard as he struck it.
He could hear the impact upon his head and he knew…
It was all over now.
And yet although he knew he should suffer this as Kotarou Fuuma…
The Shirasu within him awoke again.
Soramaru wanted to see him again.
That was impossible.
Tears flooded his eyes…
They trickled down his cheeks like rivers.
For the most painful words to a ninja after freedom…
Were the ones of an order that the ninja couldn't follow.
Who was he again?
Was he one?
Or the other?
Both?
Neither?
He had no answer to that question.
And so it seems that he never will find that answer.
It was all too late now.
If only he had more time.
Time to apologize.
To go back to the way things were.
When even he laughed under the sun.