Staring through Mirrors, where we see Pictures, Time is still Fractured and leaves us in Stitches.
For quite some time this hasn't felt like training. Mismatched pieces of expectations led me to believe this would be like climbing the Mountain, and yet all it's felt like is I'm falling. Where things were once certain, I look to the sky and realize only that I know nothing at all. Pieces jumbled, floating around in spaces that don't exist, with parts that may not even belong. I've done my shinobi duties with pride, exemplary down the line, and still none of this feels right. Nothing fits. The world is just as mad as I am, with Death looming around every frame we dare glance at. And no matter what I bury my head in, be it studies, spiritual or medical, be it the arts, or the missions at hand. Healing the sick, or punishing the wicked, nothing has brought solace, nothing has made sense. It's all going to a beat that's just wrong! Because around every corner I see your glance, through every mirror I see your stare, through every action I feel your judgement, pushing me towards something that will never make any sense. With every attempt at finding righteous angels, all we have found is Demon.
It seemed like he had been running for days. The rain poured down onto his entire being, as if it was running from the sky in the same fashion he was running from himself. Nothing ever stops moving, no matter the illusion we perceive, and at this point Takai was determined to not only never stop, but to go faster, farther, beyond, until.... He didn't know. It was like the cracking of an egg, being beaten by tiny little pieces of Sky and Aqua until he'd shatter. So he kept running. Up the mountain, through the trees, past sanity and suspicion, past disbelief and distrust. Was it a melting or a melding? Was he sobbing or straight faced? Time is so fickle it felt like it could be both and none all at once. His mind was seeing so much at once, so many different scenes and sounds, signs and systems, all playing out in, up and down, there and not. He saw faces he'd never saw that seemed so familiar, strangers that were never strange. Familiarity in the most unfamiliar places. He had no sense of how long he had been running, it was all relative to the next moment. Was it hours? Days? Weeks? Years?
All for the One ana enO eth rof llA
The thunder cracks and my mind is somewhere else. Not on the water that feels like ice against my skin, or the winds of razors, or any fatigue or wear and tear. I'm everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Like I'm entirely out of my body, exploring something else. Or maybe like something wants to be explored, and like everything else I'm helpless to resist. I'm staring at a face, or is it two faces, both covered in blood and nothing but sadness. There's a village in flames. Just another moment when it all goes wrong. And what do we do, all we can do, is weep at the sorrow that things shatter. I couldn't even tell you how long I watched him, like a whisper standing there in the shadows, as the smoke bellowed, as the blood poured mixing with the salt of tears, as hearts broke. Animals broken free into the night.
Back to running, as if he was running from his feelings, as if they were his. Sorrow chased him like a devil in the night, past the trees, past the wolves that howl, past every danger he could never notice, for all he could do is bare to push forward. As if every footstep would make the endless images subside, as if the fire could silence the Truth. It wasn't the only thought he had about the boy of beasts, like a catalogue of sorrows that followed suit. Lost and heartbroken he'd march on through dark nights, trying to hard to burn brighter than his past, but like the sorrows that chased them both, or like a snake eating it's own tail, it felt like an endless pursuit of tragedy. It all led to the image of the boys capture staring him down, another one taken by forces beyond their own comprehension. The thunder cracked and the mountain shook, but the mind is elsewhere.
These aren't the Demons I know, just beasts come down from a time that doesn't belong. It's all so backwards, mixed up and garbled. A mess of existence that I can't bare not to watch. But how can I just bare witness? Something more keeps calling and I just keep running toward it. I watched as Men in Black left him there at the gates of foreign land. I watched as they called him a demon too. And with persecution comes the sweet release of death. The thunder cracked from her fist and his chest was left like the one he had wept over, but this time no tears would come. Sorrow had won. But he was more than just a body in a hospital bed, he was still a memory, he was still an idea, he was still there in a place that was no place, as a thing that was no thing, but even nothing still exists. Another boy even darker than he was held his hand, and insisted everything would be alright, as they walked off together into the nothing. Even as it all shatters, I've decided to follow.
As the trees began to clear, and the dirt had turned to rock, the climb had only gotten steeper, yet his speed had not been subdued. Not by the rain, or the cold, not by the mind, or by the soul. He would continue to push onward, nearly blinded by himself, and the light that was pouring from his forehead and being. Like a beacon burning through the storm, he pushed onwards unknown to him that he was reaching the mountains top. The black clouds blocked out the sky, except for the massive full moon that managed to pierce through even the storm and illuminate the rain. As if nature itself was trying to roar back as loud as he was to it. Barefoot and likely bleeding his feet dashed across the slippery rocks, though none of it phased him. His focus was pure, his determination was like devotion. His temple were those rocks, and the rain, and the cold, and the fear, and the light, and the dark, and the angels, and the demons, and the no things and the nothings, and every something screaming along with him in the silence. The thunder cracks the sky.
I followed the boy back to the mists and the rains, through the sorrow and their pain. But either this boy was as mad as I, or he truly just wasn't worried about it. I watched him grow in a time of war, in a place where death was commonplace. Still he pushed on determined, rising through the ranks to a place where he would watch over the youth like others had him. Still I could see through every window frame I looked that he was alone. Such a familiar feeling to be in a city of endless people and still feel so incredibly alone. Yet the mirrors are always there, and he too looked through them like different colored lenses. He'd grow to have wild ideas, to the point of madness, where he'd eventually see different lands in search of his outlandish ideas. Determined for a solution he'd never find. Determined to make sense of something that won't. Some things are bigger than other things, and inevitably can't be avoided. So we cope. With madness, with sadness, with certainty. Eventually it was too late for the boy who was no longer a boy, but becoming a man bent on the edge of disaster. All things eventually lead back home, and that's the tragedy of the dangerous things that lurk between the folds. For this city, like all great places of tragedy, it was too late. For warning, for safety, for sanity. I walked through the mists of a place that wasn't a place in a place that was a place but could never be a place, for none of this is real. I watched as a whole city slept in Nightmare. And she laughed as she watched their sorrow along side me. "Caught in a chain like a spiders web, how they weave themselves into their own torment." but I wasn't here for her. She too was a memory, a thought, a nothing in a place of no things and everything. She wasn't the Demon I know.
With everything cleared it was clear what was coming ahead. Eventually roads will end, thoughts will cease, and new paths begin. Eventually rises lead to falls. No thing can last forever except all things in the land eternal. Each footstep matched his heartbeat. Each heartbeat matched the beat of the drum. Each drum plays in unison. Each drum is different than the last. Everything is going to the beat. He looks forward, towards the sky, towards God, towards the no things and the everythings. He could never look down, for then he would see what's coming, and he was beyond that. He was beyond doubt, he was beyond caring which way or what way, this way or that. It was forward, no matter what obstacle, no matter what come his way. No matter what the future held or the past, he would march on. The sky was silent.
I Leap
Eyes can see what's in front of them. Minds see what's beyond them. I see a Tower, not in the distance but before us both. The boy grips his sword and begins the climb. He never knew the climb doesn't stop, not even with the fall. It all keeps moving to the beat after all. There was nothing I could change, nothing I could do, just watch, just witness, just feel it all after all, and after nothing at all. Somewhere deep the in distance though, through the mists and through the dreams, I could sense It. Just over the edge and beyond the rainbow, as we cross the bridge that divides worlds, and nothing, to it all. The boy climbed the Tower, as did I, as we both floated on towards the highest point in the sky. Two mountain tops united in one common divide, still determined for eye to see I. It was atop the Tower he was waiting, the deepest that deep can go. Black as black, night as night, nyx and styx trapping us in the river, entangled in his mind and mine. The boy went on towards destiny, and I went on and.
Foot met ledge like lightning met sky and it all meets one as light meets eye. He didn't miss a beat, he just pushed off, and then there was only air, there was only sky, and only rain, and only the moment that pushed onward into eternity, into oblivion. He walked onward without walking, as if the sky took him on, towards castles in the sky that were never there, that were no where. All illuminated by the cracked sky, all flowing like the river.
I want to know you, to understand what you are. But to go where you are, the living flesh poses a hindrance. But I must go, for us all, for my self, for no one. I was in the echo of an echo, like the mind in a mind, inside of a place that was no place, in a space that was no place, in a where not a where, and a when not a when. Comprehension barely mattered, and dreams where not dreams. Sideways was the way up, as it all seemed so real, and neither was. Just like what came before. Just like the boy. Just like it all. Yet everything is written, just like what lies at the center. But I had not come for lies, I had come for the Truth, buried in the past and the future all the same. He was waiting for me there, at the center of all things, like the heart of nothingness. He was all black, as if blackness were his existence, but the shape of a man, connected to all the nothing, like windows of black that revealed it all. It was from here that this creature of Consciousness reached out to me, and I to it, as everything was falling apart. It spoke in the mirrors that made up the nothing, like picture frames for walls of all the images it had ever seen, like randomness and chaos all tied together by strings of fate. One spoke to me of a time before, a time where this had all happened. A different me, a different memory, a different dream. Like I had been here before, in this very moment. Like I've always been falling and right here at the same time. I looked into the blackness of his face and saw through the darkness, through the shadows, to a face that was my face, that was every face I had ever seen before, all together one another imposed on each other, moving as speeds beyond comprehension and right there alongside it. What is the mind here for, other than to bare witness? What can we really do to stop the tide? You were always there, and never there. When they took us, when they destroyed us, when our very existence left us in pieces. So torn just to see into your eyes, it's like I'm being melted away. Like how could I bare another day when it's all gone to shit anyway. And all you've done is watched, all you've done is sat by moment after moment, day after day, as they all fall down. Just remembering remembrances for what!? The luxury of saying you where there? It was sobbing, it was rage, it was pity, it was sorrow, it was hope, it was disappointment, it was a heart filled with every emotion ever felt, sitting right at the center of it all. And every emotion was mirrored on the window frames, it was mirrored on the blackness, and on the faces that filled the pictures that moved on and beyond and beyond.
It was the tears crashing down from his eyes that mixed with the rain. It was the voice in his mind that told him everything was going to be fine. That there was always hope, and it shined like the beacon that his body had become. He was the thunder that cracked the sky on that night, like a flash of light that could be seen by all of the shinobi countries and lands. It was the birth of a Phoenix, the spirit fires consuming his whole body as he fell from the mountain top, mixing with his tears, and the rain, and the nothing, and the everything. He cried so hard that all he could do was fall, all he could do was burn, all he could do was see. But to his own surprise, his own dismay, he could no long run. For the floor has become air, for the night had become his womb, for his own troubles were no longer his own, but he could see, it was all of ours, everyone, every thing. All trapped together in this beat, in this web of lies and Truth. Truth that would burn up his very being, in his ultimate moment of clarity. He had found the Devil he was looking for.
As I walked into his black being, into the center of it all. Where everything is feeling, and nothing is nothing at all. I saw the boy again, lying under a tree. I saw where he would sleep, for what seemed like eternity. I saw the universe cry, as lovers where separated. I saw the universe die, and laid there exasperated. Rift became rift, and it all became lie, but I swear it was truth, i'll swear till I die, and even as then, as it all becomes ash, I'll be reborn again, just like the last. I swear it on my name, I swear it on Takai, I swear it on life, on the Truth, on the Eye. I swear that I'll see, until my end. I swear to bare witness, even in Death. Like Watcher passed to Watcher I'll do what I can, to ease their struggle, their pain through his plan. So maybe one day, as unlikely as it may, we'll all walk in unison, through the mirrors of our shame. So allow me to let go, of all of my sorrow, and allow me to feel again, these things I don't know. As this universe crumbles, as it all turns to dust, give us this new chance, allow us to rebuild trust. Allow me like the Phoenix who has yet to be reborn, to find now my wings, allow me to soar.
Some things break us. Others let us grow. Sometimes it's both. Some things had happened, mostly nothing, but in the unconscious mind nothing is everything. It wasn't about remembrance as much as it was about existence. All connected and shared between bonds that have no physical meaning and yet all the meaning in the world. A glance into something that could make sense of the unsense with no sense at all. It never mattered if he ran for a minute, a mile, a year, a millennia, as it no matter how far he ran, or if he ran to or from, it would all still go to the beat. And it didn't matter if the beat cared or not, it was there, and it was beating, like a heart at the center of hearts, and so he would play his part.
He opened his eyes and there were no more flashing images, no pain, nothing holding him back. He was falling towards his Death, with only clarity in sight, and there was no fear. Not for what may come or would come, for his knew in the infinite possibilities of what was out there, he could be in control if he wanted to. With a deep breath, he realized he was in possession of more chakra than he has ever been in before of his life. Like he could access it all so clearly. He was free. With a smile he said goodbye to the memories, those that haunted him and illuminated him, that pleased him and guided him, that had held him back and pushed him forward. Because there was still just so much more to be done. These where the characters that were played before, and there was just so much more to be written.
[Wc= 3,173]
[Marked for hopeful Training]
For quite some time this hasn't felt like training. Mismatched pieces of expectations led me to believe this would be like climbing the Mountain, and yet all it's felt like is I'm falling. Where things were once certain, I look to the sky and realize only that I know nothing at all. Pieces jumbled, floating around in spaces that don't exist, with parts that may not even belong. I've done my shinobi duties with pride, exemplary down the line, and still none of this feels right. Nothing fits. The world is just as mad as I am, with Death looming around every frame we dare glance at. And no matter what I bury my head in, be it studies, spiritual or medical, be it the arts, or the missions at hand. Healing the sick, or punishing the wicked, nothing has brought solace, nothing has made sense. It's all going to a beat that's just wrong! Because around every corner I see your glance, through every mirror I see your stare, through every action I feel your judgement, pushing me towards something that will never make any sense. With every attempt at finding righteous angels, all we have found is Demon.
It seemed like he had been running for days. The rain poured down onto his entire being, as if it was running from the sky in the same fashion he was running from himself. Nothing ever stops moving, no matter the illusion we perceive, and at this point Takai was determined to not only never stop, but to go faster, farther, beyond, until.... He didn't know. It was like the cracking of an egg, being beaten by tiny little pieces of Sky and Aqua until he'd shatter. So he kept running. Up the mountain, through the trees, past sanity and suspicion, past disbelief and distrust. Was it a melting or a melding? Was he sobbing or straight faced? Time is so fickle it felt like it could be both and none all at once. His mind was seeing so much at once, so many different scenes and sounds, signs and systems, all playing out in, up and down, there and not. He saw faces he'd never saw that seemed so familiar, strangers that were never strange. Familiarity in the most unfamiliar places. He had no sense of how long he had been running, it was all relative to the next moment. Was it hours? Days? Weeks? Years?
All for the One ana enO eth rof llA
The thunder cracks and my mind is somewhere else. Not on the water that feels like ice against my skin, or the winds of razors, or any fatigue or wear and tear. I'm everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Like I'm entirely out of my body, exploring something else. Or maybe like something wants to be explored, and like everything else I'm helpless to resist. I'm staring at a face, or is it two faces, both covered in blood and nothing but sadness. There's a village in flames. Just another moment when it all goes wrong. And what do we do, all we can do, is weep at the sorrow that things shatter. I couldn't even tell you how long I watched him, like a whisper standing there in the shadows, as the smoke bellowed, as the blood poured mixing with the salt of tears, as hearts broke. Animals broken free into the night.
Back to running, as if he was running from his feelings, as if they were his. Sorrow chased him like a devil in the night, past the trees, past the wolves that howl, past every danger he could never notice, for all he could do is bare to push forward. As if every footstep would make the endless images subside, as if the fire could silence the Truth. It wasn't the only thought he had about the boy of beasts, like a catalogue of sorrows that followed suit. Lost and heartbroken he'd march on through dark nights, trying to hard to burn brighter than his past, but like the sorrows that chased them both, or like a snake eating it's own tail, it felt like an endless pursuit of tragedy. It all led to the image of the boys capture staring him down, another one taken by forces beyond their own comprehension. The thunder cracked and the mountain shook, but the mind is elsewhere.
These aren't the Demons I know, just beasts come down from a time that doesn't belong. It's all so backwards, mixed up and garbled. A mess of existence that I can't bare not to watch. But how can I just bare witness? Something more keeps calling and I just keep running toward it. I watched as Men in Black left him there at the gates of foreign land. I watched as they called him a demon too. And with persecution comes the sweet release of death. The thunder cracked from her fist and his chest was left like the one he had wept over, but this time no tears would come. Sorrow had won. But he was more than just a body in a hospital bed, he was still a memory, he was still an idea, he was still there in a place that was no place, as a thing that was no thing, but even nothing still exists. Another boy even darker than he was held his hand, and insisted everything would be alright, as they walked off together into the nothing. Even as it all shatters, I've decided to follow.
As the trees began to clear, and the dirt had turned to rock, the climb had only gotten steeper, yet his speed had not been subdued. Not by the rain, or the cold, not by the mind, or by the soul. He would continue to push onward, nearly blinded by himself, and the light that was pouring from his forehead and being. Like a beacon burning through the storm, he pushed onwards unknown to him that he was reaching the mountains top. The black clouds blocked out the sky, except for the massive full moon that managed to pierce through even the storm and illuminate the rain. As if nature itself was trying to roar back as loud as he was to it. Barefoot and likely bleeding his feet dashed across the slippery rocks, though none of it phased him. His focus was pure, his determination was like devotion. His temple were those rocks, and the rain, and the cold, and the fear, and the light, and the dark, and the angels, and the demons, and the no things and the nothings, and every something screaming along with him in the silence. The thunder cracks the sky.
I followed the boy back to the mists and the rains, through the sorrow and their pain. But either this boy was as mad as I, or he truly just wasn't worried about it. I watched him grow in a time of war, in a place where death was commonplace. Still he pushed on determined, rising through the ranks to a place where he would watch over the youth like others had him. Still I could see through every window frame I looked that he was alone. Such a familiar feeling to be in a city of endless people and still feel so incredibly alone. Yet the mirrors are always there, and he too looked through them like different colored lenses. He'd grow to have wild ideas, to the point of madness, where he'd eventually see different lands in search of his outlandish ideas. Determined for a solution he'd never find. Determined to make sense of something that won't. Some things are bigger than other things, and inevitably can't be avoided. So we cope. With madness, with sadness, with certainty. Eventually it was too late for the boy who was no longer a boy, but becoming a man bent on the edge of disaster. All things eventually lead back home, and that's the tragedy of the dangerous things that lurk between the folds. For this city, like all great places of tragedy, it was too late. For warning, for safety, for sanity. I walked through the mists of a place that wasn't a place in a place that was a place but could never be a place, for none of this is real. I watched as a whole city slept in Nightmare. And she laughed as she watched their sorrow along side me. "Caught in a chain like a spiders web, how they weave themselves into their own torment." but I wasn't here for her. She too was a memory, a thought, a nothing in a place of no things and everything. She wasn't the Demon I know.
With everything cleared it was clear what was coming ahead. Eventually roads will end, thoughts will cease, and new paths begin. Eventually rises lead to falls. No thing can last forever except all things in the land eternal. Each footstep matched his heartbeat. Each heartbeat matched the beat of the drum. Each drum plays in unison. Each drum is different than the last. Everything is going to the beat. He looks forward, towards the sky, towards God, towards the no things and the everythings. He could never look down, for then he would see what's coming, and he was beyond that. He was beyond doubt, he was beyond caring which way or what way, this way or that. It was forward, no matter what obstacle, no matter what come his way. No matter what the future held or the past, he would march on. The sky was silent.
I Leap
Eyes can see what's in front of them. Minds see what's beyond them. I see a Tower, not in the distance but before us both. The boy grips his sword and begins the climb. He never knew the climb doesn't stop, not even with the fall. It all keeps moving to the beat after all. There was nothing I could change, nothing I could do, just watch, just witness, just feel it all after all, and after nothing at all. Somewhere deep the in distance though, through the mists and through the dreams, I could sense It. Just over the edge and beyond the rainbow, as we cross the bridge that divides worlds, and nothing, to it all. The boy climbed the Tower, as did I, as we both floated on towards the highest point in the sky. Two mountain tops united in one common divide, still determined for eye to see I. It was atop the Tower he was waiting, the deepest that deep can go. Black as black, night as night, nyx and styx trapping us in the river, entangled in his mind and mine. The boy went on towards destiny, and I went on and.
Foot met ledge like lightning met sky and it all meets one as light meets eye. He didn't miss a beat, he just pushed off, and then there was only air, there was only sky, and only rain, and only the moment that pushed onward into eternity, into oblivion. He walked onward without walking, as if the sky took him on, towards castles in the sky that were never there, that were no where. All illuminated by the cracked sky, all flowing like the river.
I want to know you, to understand what you are. But to go where you are, the living flesh poses a hindrance. But I must go, for us all, for my self, for no one. I was in the echo of an echo, like the mind in a mind, inside of a place that was no place, in a space that was no place, in a where not a where, and a when not a when. Comprehension barely mattered, and dreams where not dreams. Sideways was the way up, as it all seemed so real, and neither was. Just like what came before. Just like the boy. Just like it all. Yet everything is written, just like what lies at the center. But I had not come for lies, I had come for the Truth, buried in the past and the future all the same. He was waiting for me there, at the center of all things, like the heart of nothingness. He was all black, as if blackness were his existence, but the shape of a man, connected to all the nothing, like windows of black that revealed it all. It was from here that this creature of Consciousness reached out to me, and I to it, as everything was falling apart. It spoke in the mirrors that made up the nothing, like picture frames for walls of all the images it had ever seen, like randomness and chaos all tied together by strings of fate. One spoke to me of a time before, a time where this had all happened. A different me, a different memory, a different dream. Like I had been here before, in this very moment. Like I've always been falling and right here at the same time. I looked into the blackness of his face and saw through the darkness, through the shadows, to a face that was my face, that was every face I had ever seen before, all together one another imposed on each other, moving as speeds beyond comprehension and right there alongside it. What is the mind here for, other than to bare witness? What can we really do to stop the tide? You were always there, and never there. When they took us, when they destroyed us, when our very existence left us in pieces. So torn just to see into your eyes, it's like I'm being melted away. Like how could I bare another day when it's all gone to shit anyway. And all you've done is watched, all you've done is sat by moment after moment, day after day, as they all fall down. Just remembering remembrances for what!? The luxury of saying you where there? It was sobbing, it was rage, it was pity, it was sorrow, it was hope, it was disappointment, it was a heart filled with every emotion ever felt, sitting right at the center of it all. And every emotion was mirrored on the window frames, it was mirrored on the blackness, and on the faces that filled the pictures that moved on and beyond and beyond.
It was the tears crashing down from his eyes that mixed with the rain. It was the voice in his mind that told him everything was going to be fine. That there was always hope, and it shined like the beacon that his body had become. He was the thunder that cracked the sky on that night, like a flash of light that could be seen by all of the shinobi countries and lands. It was the birth of a Phoenix, the spirit fires consuming his whole body as he fell from the mountain top, mixing with his tears, and the rain, and the nothing, and the everything. He cried so hard that all he could do was fall, all he could do was burn, all he could do was see. But to his own surprise, his own dismay, he could no long run. For the floor has become air, for the night had become his womb, for his own troubles were no longer his own, but he could see, it was all of ours, everyone, every thing. All trapped together in this beat, in this web of lies and Truth. Truth that would burn up his very being, in his ultimate moment of clarity. He had found the Devil he was looking for.
As I walked into his black being, into the center of it all. Where everything is feeling, and nothing is nothing at all. I saw the boy again, lying under a tree. I saw where he would sleep, for what seemed like eternity. I saw the universe cry, as lovers where separated. I saw the universe die, and laid there exasperated. Rift became rift, and it all became lie, but I swear it was truth, i'll swear till I die, and even as then, as it all becomes ash, I'll be reborn again, just like the last. I swear it on my name, I swear it on Takai, I swear it on life, on the Truth, on the Eye. I swear that I'll see, until my end. I swear to bare witness, even in Death. Like Watcher passed to Watcher I'll do what I can, to ease their struggle, their pain through his plan. So maybe one day, as unlikely as it may, we'll all walk in unison, through the mirrors of our shame. So allow me to let go, of all of my sorrow, and allow me to feel again, these things I don't know. As this universe crumbles, as it all turns to dust, give us this new chance, allow us to rebuild trust. Allow me like the Phoenix who has yet to be reborn, to find now my wings, allow me to soar.
Some things break us. Others let us grow. Sometimes it's both. Some things had happened, mostly nothing, but in the unconscious mind nothing is everything. It wasn't about remembrance as much as it was about existence. All connected and shared between bonds that have no physical meaning and yet all the meaning in the world. A glance into something that could make sense of the unsense with no sense at all. It never mattered if he ran for a minute, a mile, a year, a millennia, as it no matter how far he ran, or if he ran to or from, it would all still go to the beat. And it didn't matter if the beat cared or not, it was there, and it was beating, like a heart at the center of hearts, and so he would play his part.
He opened his eyes and there were no more flashing images, no pain, nothing holding him back. He was falling towards his Death, with only clarity in sight, and there was no fear. Not for what may come or would come, for his knew in the infinite possibilities of what was out there, he could be in control if he wanted to. With a deep breath, he realized he was in possession of more chakra than he has ever been in before of his life. Like he could access it all so clearly. He was free. With a smile he said goodbye to the memories, those that haunted him and illuminated him, that pleased him and guided him, that had held him back and pushed him forward. Because there was still just so much more to be done. These where the characters that were played before, and there was just so much more to be written.
[Wc= 3,173]
[Marked for hopeful Training]