D
DemonioBlanco
Guest
家人です。
{They are your family.}
This was the little doubting voice in Saita's head speaking, as he sat in the chair of his room, in front of the full-length mirror. It was the voice of what he had been told was "reason", it agreed with everything that he had been taught. It upheld the honor of his family. It was eerily similar to his deceased father's voice, and spoke of everything that the Hatsuran family was known to uphold. Competence. Trust. Stoicism. Loyalty to one's country.
Saita's father was a true patriot in the eyes of Japanese society. A man who died in defense of his emperor, and to preserve the Japanese way of life. However, Saita felt that his father's death was in vain. What did the emperor care about a commoner dying? If anything, commoners needed more say in this oppressive society. After all, the commoners were the largest group, and were most heavily affected by the emperor's decisions. This difference of opinion was why Saita was setting out to leave today, leaving all of his family, all that he had known, behind in pursuit of freedom.
Yet, despite all of the mental drilling that he had received about what made a man a man, despite the hours of propaganda that he had passed through his deep blue eyes, despite the fact that this very family of his, the patriots, were depending on him to carry on their family's name in battle, Saita's will was still intact. It was because of this will that he could even so much an entertain the idea of leaving his family behind. He was driven by this will to do what he truly believed in at the tender age of 15. Standing up, he sighed and threw his bag of essentials over his shoulder. It was time to head out.
Lightning flickered in the black sky as he left the rear door of the Hatsuran Family home for the last time. Out of the side pocket of his navy blue bag, Saita produced a map, with his destination marked with red ink. According to what he had pieced together from the bits of information that he had scoured from various sources, the headquarters of the rebel forces was westward. Thunder rumbled as rain hit the awning of the family home. Saita placed the map back in the bag and pulled out his rain jacket.
Saita couldn't afford to be recognized on the train, nor could he drive- yet. The best way to get to the headquarters was on foot. Without rest, Saita took hundreds of soggy steps as the night hours phased to early morning. His thin body shook with cold, as his soaked jacket created a weak barrier between himself and the rain. It had let up some as sun broke through the clouds, but not enough to keep him dry.
His slightly tan skin had lost a shade of color, and his finger pads were wrinkled. He clutched at his own shoulders, hugging himself to generate warmth. Still, he pressed on, until he heard gunshots in the distance. He was either in deep trouble, or he had reached the rebel base.
「続…けて...{Keep...moving...}」he instructed himself. He desperately wanted to rest, but that was less important than getting to the base. Onward, he continued to walk with heavy breaths and gradually slowing steps, until he came upon a large, metal structure that appeared to have doors and windows in the distance.
「反乱軍の本社だ？ {Is that the rebel base?} He asked aloud, his voice drowned out by the pattering rain. He was moving closer to his goal, yet, it was getting blurrier...
{They are your family.}
This was the little doubting voice in Saita's head speaking, as he sat in the chair of his room, in front of the full-length mirror. It was the voice of what he had been told was "reason", it agreed with everything that he had been taught. It upheld the honor of his family. It was eerily similar to his deceased father's voice, and spoke of everything that the Hatsuran family was known to uphold. Competence. Trust. Stoicism. Loyalty to one's country.
Saita's father was a true patriot in the eyes of Japanese society. A man who died in defense of his emperor, and to preserve the Japanese way of life. However, Saita felt that his father's death was in vain. What did the emperor care about a commoner dying? If anything, commoners needed more say in this oppressive society. After all, the commoners were the largest group, and were most heavily affected by the emperor's decisions. This difference of opinion was why Saita was setting out to leave today, leaving all of his family, all that he had known, behind in pursuit of freedom.
Yet, despite all of the mental drilling that he had received about what made a man a man, despite the hours of propaganda that he had passed through his deep blue eyes, despite the fact that this very family of his, the patriots, were depending on him to carry on their family's name in battle, Saita's will was still intact. It was because of this will that he could even so much an entertain the idea of leaving his family behind. He was driven by this will to do what he truly believed in at the tender age of 15. Standing up, he sighed and threw his bag of essentials over his shoulder. It was time to head out.
Lightning flickered in the black sky as he left the rear door of the Hatsuran Family home for the last time. Out of the side pocket of his navy blue bag, Saita produced a map, with his destination marked with red ink. According to what he had pieced together from the bits of information that he had scoured from various sources, the headquarters of the rebel forces was westward. Thunder rumbled as rain hit the awning of the family home. Saita placed the map back in the bag and pulled out his rain jacket.
Saita couldn't afford to be recognized on the train, nor could he drive- yet. The best way to get to the headquarters was on foot. Without rest, Saita took hundreds of soggy steps as the night hours phased to early morning. His thin body shook with cold, as his soaked jacket created a weak barrier between himself and the rain. It had let up some as sun broke through the clouds, but not enough to keep him dry.
His slightly tan skin had lost a shade of color, and his finger pads were wrinkled. He clutched at his own shoulders, hugging himself to generate warmth. Still, he pressed on, until he heard gunshots in the distance. He was either in deep trouble, or he had reached the rebel base.
「続…けて...{Keep...moving...}」he instructed himself. He desperately wanted to rest, but that was less important than getting to the base. Onward, he continued to walk with heavy breaths and gradually slowing steps, until he came upon a large, metal structure that appeared to have doors and windows in the distance.
「反乱軍の本社だ？ {Is that the rebel base?} He asked aloud, his voice drowned out by the pattering rain. He was moving closer to his goal, yet, it was getting blurrier...
