Copyright: ©copyright 2012 Moonrise Inn Publications
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction. Ronin Warriors is property of Bandai.
Authors Note: This story was original written as a request for Valandra wanting a bit of a twist. I took it a step further then she expected.

Shards of Pain
Author: Zorra Reed
Beta: Valandra

Warm liquid slipped from my eyes, leaving salty streaks down my cheeks, and under my chin; there it dripped off my skin to soak and mingle with the blood gathering on my shirt. My blood; blood from my body. It covered my shirt turning the red cloth crimson. How could he do this to me? How could he betray me like this? I thought we were friends, closer even…

Brothers.

I must have been wrong, for no brother would do this. …Never!

OooO

It hurt too much not to be true. Icy thrones stabbed at his insides with every breath. His body was growing cold and shuddering with chills, though I doubt he was aware of them. I stood behind him for long seconds before his knees buckled and I caught him; easing his weakened body to the ground. He rested his face against my shoulder not having the strength or capability to raise his head any longer. I knew what he was thinking, and I wished to God I didn't; because in just a moment, he was going to wander upon the one thing that could bring me everlasting guilt.

His breath hitched on a sob. He was breaking. His body was failing. I had to watch it, too know for sure that I'd done the right thing. Holding onto his shoulder, I tilted his chin up to look into his eyes, to let him know who had betrayed him; that it was his brother who had done this wicked thing to him. Brother turned against Brother, classic irony. He held my gaze for what seemed like eternity; the flicker of surprise I first registered shifting into confusion before his sight turned away from me and focused inward, refusing my assurances and offer of comfort, my admission of guilt. Instead, choosing - or unable to prevent himself from - hiding his emotions, and leaving me isolated…to watch him die alone. It didn't matter that he was in my arms, or that I wept for him. He was in his own world now, where all he would know was the pain; locked away where he felt safe; safe from me.

I felt a ping of pain rip at my own heart. It was wrong of me to feel so, but I couldn't stop it. It hurt to know that I wasn't welcomed to comfort my friend in his last moments. Instead, I'd been replaced by the one thing that had never let him down, never once abandoned him or turned on him; the only thing that would stay with him even in the cold sleep of death…

Pain.

Pain had found its way into his life long ago and was regarded with more care and reverence then any of his friends had ever been.

I can't believe I'm jealous of pain! After all, I'm the one that forced him to turn to it now. I did. I'm not proud of it. I'm crying for Christ sakes! I don't want my best friend to die! I could help him. I really could. All I've got to do is lay my hands on him and focus. I won't. Not with the others here watching. They'd kill him in a heartbeat. He can't live, he just can't! Not this time.

"Sage?" The soft, strained murmur draws my attention from my thoughts and back to the boy in my arms. The dull blue hue of his eyes still glistening with a fading vitality; I can tell it's a struggle for him to speak. I settle him across my lap, letting him use my arm and shoulder as a pillow. With one hand I stroked his face, encouraging him to continue. When he does, it was so soft I had to lean down to hear him. He'd finally said that which I'd been dreading; those terrible words of guilt.

He gazed at me for a long moment, the confusion still lingering behind the newly acquired fear. I noticed a flash of rage, then…peace. "I'm glad…it was by your hand?"

He chocked on another sob…or it could have been blood. I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I'd hurt him. He knew it was I. He didn't blame me. His eyes were free of malice. I hated him for that; he shouldn't be so damn forgiving. He shouldn't be accepting this! I shouldn't be accepting this! I won't let my voice crack. I'll be strong, for him. "I had no choice, Ryo."

His lip quivered and I thought he'd say more. Then fresh tears renewed themselves, painting his cheeks, and I caught his faint whisper of pain. "…hurts…" My own tears were fresh upon my cheeks then, a wave of sorrow rushing upon me with an emotional force I'd never before know.

He stopped breathing. Just like that. No shuddering last breathe in an attempt to draw life back into his still body. No peaceful sigh and happy smile. No, no…nothing. He left me with nothing; just as he had died with nothing. Alone with his sorrow and my parting gift of pain; so very many levels of pain, all of which I had caused. It was all I had to give. It was all that I could give. I now held his corpse in my arms, the locks of hair that I'd been running my fingers through now seemed oddly brittle and foreign. Ryo had lost his luster, his dynamism, his life. He was dead. Dead in my arms. Dead…by my hand.

Dead.

"I'm sorry, Ryo." I whispered, hearing my own voice crack brokenly beneath the strain of emotion. It was an after thought to shift him and pull the blade (nearly forgotten in my grief) from his back where I'd planted it between the vertebrae, just above the shoulder blades, after multiple stabs to other vital parts of his body. "I had no choice. I had no choice. I had…no…choice…."

Too bad I made the wrong one.

I felt rather then saw Kento kneel beside me, my eyes only able to see the limp fingers of Ryo's hand as they were pealed back, and the black semiautomatic was removed from his grip. His hand on my shoulder drew my gaze upward and I blinked his slat-colored eyes into focus. "I made the wrong choice." Kento's arms where around me instantly as my voice broke and faded. "Oh God, what have I done?"

"The only thing you could do." Kento tried to sooth, his fingers patting my back in what were intended to be soothing circles.

"The right thing to do." Cye's normally calm, gentle voice was hard and chilled, the sharp edge catching my attention with a start. I gazed up at him from over Kento's shoulder, dumbfounded and with no small amount of alarm. Seeing my look, Shin continued, tone still icy as he hissed his words. "He was insane."

"He would have killed us all," Kento picked up the conversation, his own tone understanding and soft for my sake. Squeezing my shoulders to convey a final reassurance, he stood and spread a sheet over Ryo's lifeless form.

I eased myself out from beneath Ryo and settled my brother's head upon the grass. He always liked to lounge in the grass during the warm summer days.

"I know." I took the edge of the cloth and eased the sheet over the pale face as a final farewell, then turned my attention to Shin, watching the fire die from his eyes as he mirrored my actions and placed a second sheet over Rowen's body as well.

OooO

Reach down inside; beyond your hatred, beyond your unstable mindset. Reach deep within; past flesh and bone. Reach so deep, you grasp your soul. With it in hand pull hard and strong, bring forth the ripped, shredded strands. Let us lay them out, display them for all to see; then thread them together again and make it whole. Let us place your soul back inside; safe, where it can hide. Then I'll rip you apart all over again. Rip you apart with my own bear hands.

-Sage Date