Masquerade--

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran laughed at Shinaki's response, it was exactly as he expected. The man was not so broken as to snap as a childish insult, he came back with a rather witty comment right back at Syaoran. He could not feel at ease in the room, he was not cut out for this type of interrogation. But he had been asked to do it, and if it could help he would try. Syaoran actually had other things he needed to do, and this Uchiha was of no use. He actually contained no knowledge of use, he was just a simple tool of Madara, nothing of real importance. Standing finally Syaoran made to leave the room, sliding the chair with him as he made to walk out.

"It seems you have sealed yourself up tight."

'Even from yourself.'

"I may be back to talk to you later.”

And with that Syaoran let the door click shut, the metal locks making their sound as the bar was laid down across the door. Standing outside the room for a moment, outside of view of the small hole in the door Syaoran sighed and looked back at the door. That man was dangerous, if he took any chances he would take advantage of it and escape, possibly causing more harm to the village. However, if the man was allowed to go free, away from the village, it may prove to be better for him as he was an enemy of Kumo also. On the other hand, it would be safest to just kill the man now, while he was bound and helpless.

Walking slowly down Syaoran pauses at Nevan's cell, marked VI in a smooth carve on the door. Reaching his hand he brushed his fingers against the door, he knew Nevan would be listening.

"Nevan, I have not abandoned you yet.”

Syaoran said, then walked off down the hall, not waiting for a response. He was determined to find out why Nevan had done what he did, why he felt what he did, and what had Hikado done to his friend. Leaving the prison Syaoran told the guard to post two extra guards in the area with the Uchiha to make sure they did not try and escape. He would put twice as many guards on duty down there, it would be enough to take out Syaoran and Nevan if they were at full strength with no bindings or chakra suppressant, Syaoran figured that it would be enough to hold the two of them with such restrictions.

[Exodus]

P

issed off. ~

Nevan faced the wall that restrained Shinaki with his pants down and with an unbelievable desire to urinate all over it; he did. At first, he attempted to whittle and fashion his name into the despicable barricade and then noticed his endeavor worsening as each second died down. There wasn't the slightest amusement slapped onto his expression, rather; he just flat out didn't care. He refastened his zipper and spat towards the filth with a distasteful habit. The Uchiha remained silent however; the words that carried on in the opposite room did not interest him at all. He paced back and forth in a sudden contemplation that overwhelmed him; power, quest, evil, the vilest of reveries crept into his mind but he brushed off each one at a simple whim.

"Madara is a fool.”

Of course their plan could not come to fruition because of the failure of their leader. Too much relied on his actions for this mission to prove a success of any kind. It was a stupid scheme, a stratagem commendable of historical mention, but not one to be respected. There had to be more to this, it was impossible for Madara to fall with such ease. Nevan thought, no, he knew he could've lasted longer than the man he had witnessed on the battlefield today, but his opportunity had taken from him forever. Nevan continued to pace as the smell strengthened; it did not bother him the slightest bit, perhaps the West had trained him in such short time to pay no heed to those insignificant moralist values. All at once, the noise that echoed in the halls had come to a quiet and a door slammed locked. Nevan moved for his cell door and pressed up onto the steel door, he heard breathing, footsteps and somehow, he knew.

"Nevan, I have not abandoned you yet.”

"Liar..."

[Ravage Nocturne]

How loathsome was he?

Lie after lie, his entire life was one embracing deceit and betrayal. Woven with falsification, the fabric that stretched across the canvas was indeed an ugly and worthless one. No great artist could paint a beautiful scene with so many holes and flaws. Imperfect, he would in turn be ejected from the world he had known until now. Just another handful of trash; ready to be thrown to the curb and forgotten. Having spent his entire life in the shadow of another person, he had finally found something to call his own, and lost it. Although he could make excuses and reasons for why his life turned out like this, it was his own damn fault, and he knew it. Brushing his fingertips against the wall, he considers the person behind it, and frowns. How crushed must Nevan be, after being subject to such a day? The possible death of the father figure in his life, the scorn and betrayal of his close friend, Syaoran, and then to top it all off, the perfect timing of learning that the person he cherished as a brother was nothing but a false identity.

A liar. A cheat. An empty shell claiming the name of someone dear to him.

Staring at the ground beneath him, he watches as the darkness parts every now and again as the light shifts with the passing guards, throwing shadows across the cell in the form of jeering specters. Invisible ghosts that danced around him and laughed, laughed, laughed at the pathetic animal. Empty souls with more of a purpose than himself, observing his life and considering it one not worth having at all.

Even those who have passed could never wish to take this kind of a life, even if it meant walking the realm of the living once more.

Holding his hands before his face, he stares at his palms. He had promised a long time ago to do great things with these. To mold and create a new life for himself, and to escape the pain and the misery that was his past. He was supposed to be some glorious legend by now. Something to look up to and to envy. Instead, he had fallen farther than he ever had previous. Clenching his hands into tight fists, he feels a blend of intense rage and depression spread through his stomach, before churning into one of total loss. He couldn't even regard himself as a person anymore. He had taken the name of the friend he envied, and tarnished it. No longer the lustrous, magnificent memory that Nevan must have had, he now replaced those fond memories with an Uchiha Asher of weakness and of falsehood. Even as he sat alone in this cell and felt his soul weep for his brother, he couldn't refrain from being jaded enough to pity himself.

How pathetic.

Conceit besmirched any sense of strength he might have, and buried it forever. Although Nevan, his brother, had endured a day most horrible, he couldn't help but allow his mind to drift to his own miseries. How could Nevan ever have accepted someone like himself? Everything that had brought him to this point in his life had been his own fault, and yet he sought to blame some exterior force. Running his fingers through his hair, he buries his face between his knees. Nevan would recover, and he knew it. He had friends, even if he couldn't accept them at this moment. They would support him, and rescue him from his agony. Even Syaoran...he was completely serious about his faith in his Nakama, and would never abandon or refuse his friend.

And Shinaki had nothing.

A life alone was no life at all, but it was all that he could claim. It wasn't enough, and he knew it. Perhaps he had assumed the identity of an old friend just to feel a connection again. Maybe he allowed himself to be taken under Madara's wing just because he yearned for the feeling of having a family again.

You can never know pain until you lose what you have.

The simple truth of the matter was that he, Uchiha Shinaki, was the weakest of them all. A tough exterior had always helped promote a sense of confidence and complacency, but all of this was a facade. A cruel lie that he laid over his own eyes. While he walked this earth without a single expression of pain, he was dead on the inside, and only lived to search for something meaningful. By now, he didn't even know who he was anymore. He had lied to himself for so long and so many times, that there was no way that he could unravel the mess. He could only look forward, as usual, and change to someone he believed was stronger.

Someone worth loving.

And so, having finally realized his short comings, and the pain that he had brought upon others, Shinaki did the one thing he hadn't in so long.

He wept.

[cntrstrk14]

~Reflections

Rippled Pool

Syaoran walked up through the spiraling staircase that led to the lower prison. It was quiet as his footsteps echoed on the stone steps, leaving a hollowed feeling. With so many people and so much havoc going on it was hard to imagine that there was such a quiet and lonely place such as this. Syaoran had reverted himself back on his own thoughts, there were many things that he was responsible for as of now, with Hikado locked in combat and many other higher ups moving about and clearing out the village. The war was dying down, most of the fighting had ended. But what of Nevan now? Would his name be cleared? Would he be condemned to prison, or even death for treason? How would Hikado handle it, and more importantly, was what Nevan and Madara said true? Despite their words though, Syaoran knew it would be in the interest of the village, for now at least, to treat their words as lies. There was no time yet to unravel this long and hateful past between the two.

‘Would Hikado understand Nevan's feelings? Would he give him a pardon because of his own actions? Did Hikado even do any wrong actions for him to give Nevan pardon for?'

Syaoran still did not have enough information, and when he had tried to talk with Nevan earlier he had let his anger get the best of him and it had boiled down to an argument. He feared that if he went to question him again he may just do the same thing.

Hikari was also on his mind, as he climbed the lonely staircase. He had her in the back of his mind all day, and once he had seen her taken away he had been checking records and asking around if anyone had seen her since. None of the Yuki ninja had been spotting exiting the village, and the mercenaries could not if they wanted to. She had to still be somewhere in the village, and Syaoran needed to find her.

‘Hikari, don't go and die on me. I know you are probably still pissed, but I do not want you to die. Your still my friend…'

Kia bubbled up next and Syaoran felt sick to his stomach. The guilt and pain he had been carrying since he had left her was the worst he had to endure all day, even worse than finding out Nevan was indeed a traitor. No… not a traitor, but he was a sympathizer a the very least. He would not call him a traitor yet. Syaoran needed to find Kia though too. Why hadn't he given it to her, why did he wait. It would have made this situation all for the better, but that was a problem. He had been too embarrassed, and he had not thought about to consequences, or even the possibility of them getting separated.

‘What the hell was I thinking? I hope she was able to infiltrate them, but why did I take that chance. I was so hooked up on getting Nevan back that I forgot to keep close those that I lov-.'

Syaoran stopped mid walk, he was near the top, he could see the light bleeding around the corner of the stairwell, but his own wandering mind had just stubbed its toe on a buried truth. He took a deep breathe at what he had just thought and shook his head, it was not true, no, he was exhausted, and overwhelmed. He had not meant to think that.

‘Well of course I love her, she is my friend, I love all my friends.' Syaoran reasoned with himself.

The memory of their time at the waterfall drifted back up in his memory and he just as suddenly pushed it back down. But it burned at him, like a fierce burn in his chest, wanting to leap out and embrace the idea at its center. This was just his mind, playing tricks, deceiving him. He was hanging onto to many thing by threads, it was the stress, nothing more.

‘No, she is jsu tmy friend. And even so, she loves Nevan. No, I will not interfere in their relationship. She is not meant for me. Even if they break up, I could not move in on that. It's like a man law. You don't do that to your friends…'

Syaoran found himself disgusted with his own thoughts, he was unable to push them down fast enough. Soon enough though he was distracted. A young Chuunin, though not much younger than Syaoran himself, ran up to him and began to speak.

"Sir, squads four and seven have finished clearing out the southwest district and are moving on east to the south district to help there. It seems they cornered some mercenaries, and are having some trouble weeding them out. They reported that it was just a matter of time though, and not to send any more reinforcements.”

"Ok, what about the other squads, how are they doing?”

"Well, they report that they have had little trouble rounding up and binding the final mercenaries and ninja. Now that they are outnumbered we are able to use more humane bindings to bring them in, and we will have a lot more to question then.”

"Ok, good work, keep me updated.”

As the boy turned to run off Syaoran grabbed his arm lightly to stop him. The boy stopped and looked around puzzled, waiting for an order.

"If you hear any word of Asuka Hikari or Onkyou Kia make sure to tell me.”

"Yes sir!”

As the boy ran off though Syaoran was left to himself again, and this time his thoughts drifted to Hikado. What had become of the fight? Had he truly won so swiftly and easily? Syaoran had faith in Hikado, but something had seemed amiss. How could a man that led an army right into the heart of one of the five great ninja nations be taken out with such ease and force. Was the difference in power really that great? It was likely, even if the man was the leader of the Uchiha, the father of them all, battles still fell with luck. If Hikado had so easily trapped him with such a powerful jutsu, it would easily be the end of the man. Had Hikado known him well enough that he could read into his actions and anticipate his forward attack? If so that would explain why the man named Madara had fallen like a fool so quickly.

‘But if he had such a history and had planned this so far in advance, wouldn't he have been more cautious in his attack?'

Was the fight still going on after Syaoran, Shinaki and Nevan had left? They may still be locked in combat, and if Shinaki could knock a wall in that barrier, it was not hard for Syaoran to believe that his ‘father' Madara could do the same just as easily. Syaoran would have to rely on the two Uchiha he had imprisoned in that case, he may have to bargain their freedom and lives for the safety of the village.

Why did such people always rise up against those that wish to live in peace. These ‘gods' as Nevan had spoke of, what were they really? Just people with strength, power that they lusted after and went with all they had. Syaoran felt he had summed it up perfectly earlier, and that is how he saw Madara. Not as a man with a real purpose, but someone trying to settle an old score, someone whom was at the end of his life and wished to leave one more mark for everyone to see, a mark on someone who use to be his own nakama, his friend. What had happened between the two that had caused this ill turn of events? Was it a terrible choice on Madara's part? Hiakdo's part? Or was this entire thing just an orchestration of a bizarre set of events that chained together to pit the two at each other's throats.

And Iwagakure no Sato, o sweet Iwagakure no Sato. Why did you always end up becoming a field of battle? This was insulting, Syaoran had sworn his pride to not allow this to happen again, yet it had. Why was it that every time Syaoran tried to make a promise to himself he was unable to keep it. He would have to work from here on out, to keep the village safe. He would improve the guard and make additions to the wall. Maybe it would even be possible to make a technique to weed out any unwanted people within the village walls. Such a technique though, would require a long time of study and understanding. The preparation alone would take weeks, the calculations exact. It may be to dangerous as well, to try and do such a thing in the village, one wrong slip up and a citizen could be hurt.

No, this was not all a physical problem, and that is why Syaoran needed to train. He had to become politically aware of many more situations and ideas that people had. He had to understand the drive behind his enemies and allies. Diplomacy was much more important than brute strength. The strength of the mind and the courage to back down when needed. Syaoran would achieve this wisdom to better himself and someday achieve his dream of Tsuchikage.

‘But now… there are too many people being dragged into this. All those young genin that were with us, Kia and Hakkai, they are not even from this village and they helped. Had they been killed?'

Syaoran stomach gave another turn and he stopped himself from thinking of these things. They only made to upset him further. Now he needed to take action and find these people. It would do him no good to sit and wait around, no one would do these things for him.

‘Nevan… Kia… Hikari…I will try and do better for all of you, I have failed all three of you, but I will make it up. Whether you hate me or not I will make things right.'

9426

[Ravage Nocturne]

He could not let fear rule his life. He could not give up before he tried.

When you wear a mask since you can last remember, you begin to forget how you look beneath it. When you remove that veil, you find someone you cannot recognize, and deny it is you at all. Similarly, when you try to become the people that you idolize, you slowly begin to lose sense of self, and plummet into eternity of self reflection, trying to identify just who you were in the first place. Uchiha Shinaki had been living the life of another person ever since his childhood. The one person that he could ever call a true friend, Uchiha Asher, had been the first and only person who had ever accepted him. An idealistic Nakama, as Syaoran referred to the appellation. A true inspiration, he was everything that Shinaki wished to be, and as a result became who he would become. This was only amplified when he had thought his only friend to have died in his very arms, wishing to carry on the presence of the young man, despite his passing away. And so, in some strange manner, by his becoming Uchiha Asher, he maintained the memory of his friend thusly. But now it all felt obsolete and pointless. He came to fully realize that Asher was dead, and that nothing he could do would bring the same man back to life. To this end, a part of Shinaki had died, and would never heal again. When taking idolization to such an extent, the damage caused is not easily repaired. Spending years and years trying to honor the person through becoming them was simply self destructive and dangerous.

And now he was paying the price.

But he was not a fool, and realized that he needed to sort this out. There was some remnant of who he used to be left inside his heart, and he would have to find it to pull out of this depression. Laying on his side, his scarlet eyes trace the faint Chakra signatures of Nevan as he paces his cell, a blank expression painted across his face. The triplicate Sharingan whirling capricious and slowly, it reflects the mood of the young man, fully aware of his surroundings, but elsewhere in his mind. The matter of deciding who he would become now was fully dependent on his ability to break away from his memory of Uchiha Asher, and to forge a new personality. One based on instinctive reaction and gut feeling. There could be no thinking how Asher would respond, only how he would choose to. Turning onto his back, he reaches towards the ceiling and watches his Chakra surge slowly around his forearm. He had always wondered what it must be like, having the power of the Byakugan; how interesting to be able to see the Tenketsu, and Inner Coils System. How would he see the world, with a perception such as that. Would he be a different person than he was now? Dropping his arm to the floor, he feels his knuckles impact the concrete, and winces as the pain shoots through his arm.

No. He would still be here.

Closing his eyes, his Chakra remains visible as it pools around his line of sight. Eyelids were nothing but thin strips of skin, and could easily be pierced with his Sharingan. Breathing softly through his lips, he considers his newfound position. Just how was it possible to delete the memories of a person so close? Was it as simple as accepting their death, and moving on? Pushing himself into a sitting position, he leans against the wall of the cell. Fine then, forget Asher. It had done nothing but trap him in senseless dilemmas. Shutting his eyes tight, he plays the image of Asher's death over and over in his head. As he recalled, some wound to his heart had left a gaping hole in his chest, pumping his blood over his very arms. In his arms, Asher had perished. Opening his eyes, he swallows hard. Even if he had lived beyond that point, he at some point did pass away for good. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he watches as a rodent skitters across to pick up the crumbs from some old meal. Darting into the small hole from whence it came, it disappears forever. Frowning, he considers the same of Asher. He had come into his life for a brief moment in time, and left just as quickly.

This was stupid. Uchiha don't do this.

A forbidden smile crosses the face of the young Uchiha as he considers his situation. Here he sat, complaining about the misery of having idolized another person, and losing himself in the process. By taking steps to become the one he envied, he in turn took steps away from his heart, and became lost. The conflict that arose when the matter of regarding and accepting the death of his Nakama had sparked a revolution, and reminded him where he had gone wrong in the first place.

And he had shed tears for that.

The blood that ran through his veins was none other than that of the Uchiha Clan. Where he had become lost, this blood had directed him to the path that he had originally walked. No matter how hard he tried to hide from it, his blood knew the true face that he masked. Maybe this is why the Mangekyou spoke so darkly, and why his migraines had riddled him for so long. Breathing deeply, he cuts his eyes to the wall between himself and Nevan. No matter how much he could revert to his old self, he would never be accepted by his brother again, would he? Even though he probably had a much deeper relation with Asher, Nevan still probably felt the betrayal was too deep to reconsider. Standing up proved to be a difficult feat indeed, despite the energy he had been reserving. He had decreased activity due to his bindings, and it had taken a toll on his musculature. Walking to the door, he touches the tips of his fingers against the steel, and feels its smoothness. There was no way he could break through this. Nevan was probably better off without him, anyway. If he realized the true love that Syaoran held for him, he could honestly depict the story that had wrapped him in this cloth of hostility, and save himself. If he could swallow his pride for just a moment, and consider that not all was lost, he could find freedom once more.

Shinaki, on the other hand. Was alone.

But he always had been. His mother and his father cared little for him, despite the appearance of things. Asher had only been around for a few years, and soon left him. Madara had entered his life as a paternal father, no matter how detached, but had gotten himself seemingly killed. Nevan had become his brother, but quickly lost taste for the relation after discovering who he truly was.

But he was alright with this; If he was alone.

Allowing a weak laugh to escape his lips, he smiles more widely now. It was certainly alright. He had found who he was all the long, and he had this death sentence to thank. No matter what happened now, he had himself back.

Anything he could ever need could now be found, through that alone.

Confidence, courage, and emotion. All of it would be his and his alone. His reactions, beliefs, and instincts would be honed pure and unadulterated by his slain friend. He was his own person, and none other's. He could live or breathe how he wanted, without minding how others would perceive it. He was finally the person he needed to be all the long.

He was Uchiha Shinaki.

Of course, there were still things that he needed to settle, but those would come with time. The Sharingan spinning rapidly, it exhibits the pure mirth within his body now, whirling with eccentricity and freedom. Its master had finally found the light fate had been holding all this time, and he had taken the path again. His true strength could now be realized, and his mind was no longer caged. He was him again, and it would serve him now. Crossing the short distance required, he raps his knuckles against the wall between himself and Nevan, eager to put this all to rest now. They had time, and that couldn't be dissuaded; now was better than any other to put this behind them, if possible. At any rate, their futures would be determined now, and he would see through to that much.

"Nevan, you're such a pussy."

He states loudly and clearly.

"You haven't been abandoned at all. Not by anybody."

He laughs, and slides down with his back against the wall.

"If anything, all of us want you to realize this more now than ever."

Pausing for a moment, he smiles.

"If I could defeat the demons within me, then this should be a task easily performed by you. Don't fall so far, Nevan; we can still catch you, if you'll let us. I'm here for you, even if you don't want me to be."

Edited January 4, 2007 by Ravage Nocturne

[Exodus]

D

emons

~

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.

The words spoken had snuck into his reverie and awakened the murderer. The whispers of his blood, the murmurs of his ancestors all came to a sudden halt. He breathed and an allusion of fire slithered from his fiery chest and into the air. His hair parted as he lifted his chin in a slow ascent and those powerful, passionate illustrations of black tomoe spiraled in a spur of raw stimulus. He considered the words that interfered with his solace; words that seemed so fictitious but felt so persuasive. There was not a chance that these two men who swore their adherence and their friendship, could understand the burden that continued to fall upon the shoulders of one. It was impossible for them to understand what he had to deal with; there was only blind reassurance. He didn't need unfilled protection, he needed truth.

Nevan didn't make an effort for a response but instead looked up into the heavens through this wretched imprisonment and still witnessed the world for what it was. The consequences of his actions led him here, led him to fate that still remained out of his control. Hikado could finish what he had started right here after all, and Syaoran of all people would be the one to blame for such unjust execution. It was impossible to measure how much of this situation was fact, forged or even to judge the little details in between. Deep inside there was an instinct that told him nonetheless, told him that his actions were to hold no repentance, no remorse; this was the path to justice. This did not ease or cheer the man of catalyst however, because when the reality of it was drawn; he was still alone and cornered into the coldest cell beneath the most treacherous of places; the villains' grip.

The suppression of his life source became frustrating and a sweat broke loose down his exotic skin. The color in his face began to dim with the lack of illumination; how long had he been imprisoned for? He could hear his breathing become hoarse and the noises of these miserable halls fall just short of turning to an absolute hush. The dawn of his spirits dropped to a dusk and the realization that life was over hit him harder than the saddle of deception had. He opened his palm and watched as the lines that marked his matchlessness shortened; as if an illusion. It was wishful thinking to even hint at a chance of escape; but he would plead for freedom, never would he beg.

[Ravage Nocturne]

It was probably going to take some time for those wounds to heal.

Closing his eyes, he depresses the Chakra flowing into his eyes, and lulls the Sharingan back into dormancy. What an interesting conundrum, the one that they shared. Indigo eyes scan the small prison, and take note of the greater details. The textures, relatively smooth and flat, crept around him at ninety-degree angles, only small perforations present, where rodents laid nest. Stable and secure, he imagined that the far end of the cell was built against the rocks and subterranean earth, while the sides were enclosed with thick sheets of steel, separating cells from one another. As for the door, well...it was just plain durable. The floor itself felt of some metallic alloy, although it seemed to differ from the properties of steel. Glancing towards his wrists, he watches the blood from friction turn black and harden. He had only been here for a few hours, a day at most, but this place had a depressing atmosphere to it, and seemed to elongate the sensation of time and space. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he identifies some other metal, and surrenders. Sighing softly, he draws the conclusion that he should have long ago.

There was no escaping this place.

He felt disappointed in Nevan, for he sorely craved conversation. Even Syaoran's interrogation was better than this dull silence. Bending at the elbows, he brings his forearms atop one another, and rests his head upon them as he lays upon the floor. He was growing more and more tired now, as the shadows began to overcome his sense of awareness. There was always talk about how in the more wintry season that because a sheet of darkness fell earlier, the mind grew more fatigued at an earlier time. Something to do with the brain...it wasn't important now, of course. Just an observation. Closing his eyes for a spell, he tastes the first few moments of peace, and drowns in them. Overwhelming, it was the final luxury that he held. Amidst all of this chaotic sound of the prison sort, he was still able to tune out from it all, and catch a few moments of rest. At least, he would, had he not felt the excitement. He couldn't put a finger on it's origin, but something inside of him burned with a heated passion, as though something great were to happen at any given time. Throwing his gaze around his prison, for the first time he becomes bored with the drawl place. He hadn't noticed it prior, due to his reflection and interrogation, but there was absolutely nothing of interest to examine here. But then, he had all of this time been molding Chakra, slowly tuning his Tenketsu to the pressurized environment, hoping to slowly overcome the suppression. Slow progress at best, he could perform the most simple of feats, so long as hand seals were not required. Simple currents of the electrical nature, the formation of moisture, a small kindling flame, etcetera. Nothing outstanding nor extraordinary, but it was something at least.

Perplexed by the nature of his handcuffs, he found it far more impossible to draw the earthen elements from the steel as he had originally hoped to do. Planning on using his Chakra as a field of magnetism, he thought that he could attract the molecules of earthen terrain, but to no avail. It was not a natural construction, and he soon remembered this after having watched the stone take form. It was Alchemy, and would not follow the rules of nature. Twisting his wrists into more unnatural positioning, he pulls and pushes against the things, with some pleading hope to discover a weak point...or something like that. Quickly exhausting himself with the senseless motion, he once again takes solace in surrender, and sits up again.

Maybe it was time to bother Nevan again.

Smiling at the thought, he raps his knuckles against the steel wall once more. Despite the thickness of it, he imagined that the noise would echo in these cages of metal, and would attract the attention of the Uchiha, whether he wished to hear him or not.

"Nevan, how come you won't talk to Syaoran? I bet he could spring you from this if you would just tell him the story without erupting on him. Since these lackies outside work directly beneath him, you could probably even call for his attendance. Hell, you've got it so much better than anyone else here, so why won't you take advantage of that, and get out of here? What can you possibly gain from playing the tough act, or by enduring this sentence? This is no time to pity your miserable situation, but to find a way out of it. So DO IT. You don't fucking belong here, so don't act like you do."

The truth of the matter was that Shinaki was beginning to lose respect for Nevan. He had so many options, there was no one reason that he would have to endure all of this. Shinaki, on the other hand, quite the opposite. He had neither the connections nor the ability to reach Syaoran. Nevan only had to swallow that damn pride of his long enough to explain it all. Syaoran felt like that 'best friend 'till the end' type, so he didn't imagine that it would all be for nothing.

The trick was, how do you convince an Uchiha to swallow that pride, when you can't even do it yourself?

[Exodus]

N

evan,

N

evan,

N

evan.

"Can you shut the fuck up?”

Nevan replied proudly. Frankly, he didn't give a shit what the others thought. Truth was, people were too caught up in the lives of others to even realize their own fault, or their own ambitions. The focus, it was all mistaken and out of place; but this Uchiha would not be the one to tell them how to do things. Instead, he found lavishness in the manner of which he conducted himself. There were no alternatives and there was to be no plea for help. If Syaoran held true to his word, he would be freed in no time, but if Syaoran had opted to motion against him once more, then there was nothing he could do about it. Nevan was but a soldier, a general in this time of confusion and war. His crimes were of little consequence to how the entire scheme played out; that is to say, if it still continued.

A cruel thought passed his mind and it illustrated itself flawlessly as those bothersome words of this ‘Shinaki' repeated in his head. Where did this Shinaki expect to end up? Did he honestly believe that this was the way to correct his wrongdoing? To fix his wholesome lie that led him nowhere all for the price of egocentricity? Bullshit. This warrior could not be bought at a whim, his faithfulness; his loyalty was something not to be trifled with. He wished; deep down inside of him, he wished that somehow he could break down these walls and suffocate that impostor with these cold, bare, spiteful hands of his. And then, the thought died. Let him be his resolve was; let him rot in his own lie.

Nevan still sat in his own delusion, his own phantasm with wistful thoughts of the future. He sat, cornered between walls and freedom, between friendship and evil with a portrait in his mind; a picture that he could muster from each cliché sentiment he's ever had the pleasure to feel. It was a picture of the old team before the split. Alchem Syaoran, Onkyou Kia, Hikari Asuka and the one that had at last, learned to cope; Uchiha Nevan. This was the last thing that connected him to this place, the last thing that restrained him from escape, from murder. This lasting image began to fade…

[Ravage Nocturne]

Having digested the expected response, Shinaki retaliates with a snort. How predictable, that. Glaring sideways towards the wall, he withholds any real comment passing through his mind, and sighs heavily. Perhaps the reason that he was so easily agitated towards Nevan's prideful mannerisms is that in very much the same way, they shared that much. Although he could never catch when his pride was talking for him, he doubted that it ever remained silent and out of opinion. Pushing himself away from the wall, he walks over to the door, and peers through the slot.

No guards outside the door; crap.

Clucking his tongue at the inconvenience, he recalls that none of them resorted to use of radio; perhaps they were so far underground that the signals could not be intercepted. Pressing his lips into a frown, he considers this fact. If there were four of them now, two stationed at each end of the hallway, what were the chances that one of them would contact Syaoran? Probably zero, considering their experience with the prison types. Why would they care if one wished to contact somebody? It wasn't their business. Resisting the temptation to try and mold the Amaterasu to promote an escape route, he takes into consideration the Chakra suppression, and disregards the foolish sentiment. Even if he somehow managed to overcome the atmosphere, there would be four highly trained guards to deal with; certainly the reduction in his Chakra reservoir from that technique would render him an invalid combatant.

Grimacing at the predicament, he furrows his brows and flares his nostrils as he finds each and every plan to fall through. By no one standard was any of this possible, and since Nevan wouldn't talk, there was no chance of his escaping either. That and the fact that the guards would not cooperate. Sitting next to the wall once more, Shinaki decides to take his chances, and throws a hard punch into the metallic wall.

"Hey, if you get any ingenious plans, let me know."

He states, his voice softening and breaking off at the end as he slides down to the floor. Closing his eyes, he breathes in the musty air, and releases it through his nose. What a horrible place to be. And where was Madara, that pathetic man? Did he die so easily? If that were the case, then he had fallen much quicker than even he would have, had he faced Hikado. With his precious Tsukiyomi and Amaterasu, he hadn't considered using either of them? Just how had he managed to coerce himself and Nevan into following him, anyways? And what kind of circumstance was this? In clear violation of the political understanding of Prisoners of War, Generals were never to be imprisoned after surrender. They were treated with dignity, and given the terms of negotiation. Syaoran had seemed to skip that little step, and it enraged the Uchiha. They were clearly being left to their own devices here, and would have to plan an escape. It had to be secretive and quiet, lest the guards hear, and quick enough that they could scramble from this prison before being noticed. But how? Tunneling through the subterranean came to mind, but then came the question of just how well he could mold his Chakra. If he manipulated the Kinjutsu towards the corner of his cell, he could burn through the back of the cell, allowing him to begin tunneling with Ninjutsu, while also opening Nevan to this scenario. If he aimed it just right, he could give them both a potential route.

But could he do it?

And then, a thought. His restraints were made of steel, were they not? Moving his hands before his face, he examines them more closely. Yes, they were indeed. Steel was susceptible to both climate and moisture corrosion, both elements that he could forge under this suppression with ease. His natural affinity for the water element would certainly aide him with the process, but it was one that had to occur. Gritting his teeth, he begins to force Chakra from his tenketsu, binding with the oxygen molecules in the air, creating small portions of water. Allowing them to primarily form on his forearms, he directs them onto the handcuffs with both motion and gravity. Excellent. The moisture would normally take time to induce corrosion, but with a colder climate, the magic would happen so much faster. Focusing more intently on the process, he begins to convert the air around him into a more frigid one, despite the numbing effect on his skin. If he kept this up, in mere moments the rust would form, allowing him to break the handcuffs at the swing arm or the cheek plate; in either case, mere human strength alone could pull the restraints apart. That malicious smile crawling upon his face, he puts more effort into his plan. Afterwards, he would figure out what comes next, but for now...he would escape his imprisonment this much.

He would be free.

[cntrstrk14]

~Socius

Veritas

Syaoran had walked outside, the breeze running through his hair as he looked down the street at the arena. The large purple wall was still up, just what was going on between those two. It couldn’t have been so simple, it had been near to about forty five minutes since the small convoy had left the arena, all of the Yuki forces were round up in the village and the mercenaries too. The squads were finishing up their final rounds around the village and would then move out, as per Syaoran’s orders. Half of them would stay in the village while another half would move out into the surrounding terrain and search for any remnants of the Yuki ninja. Syaoran was still not sure why Yukigakure had been involved in all of this, except that Hikado had done them some disrespect in the past. Turning back around Syaoran walked inside. It had been about ten minutes since he had left the basement levels of the prison, and he would be returning now, this time to talk to Nevan. Taking a deep breathe he tried to calm his heart as it raced. He was not looking forward to this confrontation, not after their last one. But it needed to be done, Syaoran needed to find out what had happened to Nevan, and there was only one person he could talk to about this.

His feet moving over each other as he moved down the staircase, Syaoran reeled over the events of the last couple weeks, trying to piece together all that he had to work with. Hikado had told Syaoran that Nevan had run off on his own without order. Syaoran had wanted to run off and find Nevan, but he was tied to the village, their wavering strength needed him there, and he would not allow Kia to chase him on her own. All Syaoran could do was trust in Nevan, if he had gone on his own then it was sure that he knew what he was doing. But now all of that was blown away, the idea that Hikado had lied and sent Nevan on a mission to his death was even more discerning. But why would he call in the three of them out of their way to tell them about Nevan then? Things just didn’t add up, he should have just kept quiet until one of them asked where Nevan was and said he was on a mission. Ninja casualties on missions were not to much of an absurdity. Or maybe this was part of Hikado’s plan, to make this conflict within them, so if Nevan did return he would not be trusted. But Syaoran was not going to fall for that, he would listen to Nevan just as he had listened to Hikado, and then he would confront the man.

Coming to the bottom of the stairs Syaoran walked past the guards, not taking notice of them as one fell into position behind him, another approaching from the other end to meet him. Moving across the hard cold floor he stopped in front of the door marked ‘VI’ in red, the engraving cold and rigid. Undoing the lock Syaoran lifted the handle and slid the door open, walking in as the door closed behind him. His feet echoed across the floor as Syaoran walked into the room, the young man Nevan sitting there, as if he was waiting. Standing in front of Nevan, Syaoran lowered himself down and sat across from him. His composition made he seem to be in charge, but his tone of voice said otherwise, showing his real inability to discern what was going on.

“Nevan, tell me what happened to you, from the beginning.”

10051

[Exodus]

T

he

T

ruth ~

The air inside of the cell, unlike others, was quite troublesome. It burned with warmth and high temperature that could not be accounted for. Nevan sat in this tempest of blaze with his face buried between his arms, as each arm was pitched atop both of his arched knees. His hair was moist and his skin sweat with an abnormal perspiration; Crimson Nevan was what some had deemed him. His breath became hoarse and vented another level of heat that was beyond him. Out of all the oddities; the Sharingan was the worst; as their hue had took on a desperate form of red, boiling its blood red pool into something even fiercer.

Familiar footsteps wandered before his door and the steel latches lifted. Nevan didn't bother to look up, but understood that the Alchem had returned. He entered the room and sat across from his own seated position. There was a natural silence for but a moment, but of course the Alchem spoke his mind once more. This time, the bigheaded demand did not seem apparent, the heroic tone of pre-eminence left itself at the door and his friend had returned after all. The right question was asked and Nevan almost fell into reverie attempting to recall it in its entirety.

"You ought to be on your way, speak to no one about this assignment or of your leave. Speak not of the events that have come to pass here. Those were his words."

He paused for but a moment to withdraw and elaborate on his memories. It was a perfect illustration that was stained into his mind; the cause of this all buried itself and now unearthed before the one true man who would believe him. He remembered the letter, the accusations and even the mission that occurred before. It was right after their elimination of the NCIA, and his assignment to establish the South Eastern region. Wait the letter. He still had it. Nevan raised his head from his lap so that Syaoran could finally place his eyes on the tormented soldier. Both legs straightened and Nevan reached into his pocket to pull out a crumbled letter. He reviewed it one last time for himself and then crumbled it once more to toss it to the interrogator across the room. It read;

Crimson Nevan

We've been watching your progress throughout your time in Iwagakure.

Soon, you are to return home - to Konohagakure. But that time is not yet.

He is very impressed with what you have accomplised; yet He feels that you are - holding back.

We expect that we shall be meeting you soon, He looks forwards to it.

At the bottom in the right corner of the scroll was a red inked seal with an impressioned emblem of a rose.

"The Red Flower Society"

Nevan allowed another appropriate pause so that he could assess the letter for himself. Nevan recollected what his first thoughts were when this letter had come into his hands. He was taken aback; there were no sensible words he could form because all of this was an aspect of his life that had never even occurred. It was orchestrated to happen this way and now Nevan understood to a better measure. He wished he could've went back and told the Alchem right then and there, to betray the order that Hikado had given him and asked for the help of a friend. That was his mistake; to trust.

"It happened after I had return from the South Eastern Region of Iwagakure. It was a completed mission where I was ordered to help in the completion of the outpost there; after we had ran those NCIA from our home, Sy. There was an attack however, a person whom to this day has been unknown to me, but threatened the safety of the outpost and so, I defeated her. It turned out seconds after her defeat that it was in fact a sacrificed body that was used to battle me and not her true self. There were no answers and no trails left behind, the only person I had to turn too was Hikado.”

He spat his name.

"It seemed that the mission debriefing had intrigued him more than I had expected it too, but it worked nonetheless and he requested to see me personally. Once we passed the formalities, I questioned his relation to the woman in the mission I had completed. He denied any relation and continued to insinuate my hand in something. That something was what brought the letter to my hands. After Hikado and I both decided that this was a surprise to the both of us; he continued to elaborate on this organization, as if he knew every detail about them unlike moments before. It was questionable how he knew so much, but at the time, I hadn't the slightest clue of his intentions. He even referred to who had run it, by someone he dare not speak of…”

Uchiha Madara.

"Whatever, He asked me how I felt about this whole predicament. And like the blind, heroic fool I was, I stood against the fears of Hikado and supported his views. There was to be nothing that split the friendship him and I had. He told me he wanted me to find out. He said to travel to the West of the country and beyond its borders. My instructions were to join their ranks, an infiltration mission; find their goals, their purpose, and their leader. He said proudly that even though the Kumo threat was top priority, we needed to weed out threats of old. I recall, after such a lecture; he even questioned my thoughts on you and ‘NCIA' others. To cut that short, he wanted those traitors killed more than I did. But after that was decided; the famous words that haunt me to this day had left his mouth. You ought to be on your way, speak to no one about this assignment or of your leave. Speak not of the events that have come to pass here, and after that I had vanished...”

[cntrstrk14]

Jigsaw

Syaoran took a moment to absorb all of this, he played the scenario up until Nevan's departure over in his head. It was all starting to make sense, but there were still a lot of pieces missing. Syaoran would not pry yet as to the rest, he would first disclose to his friend his own situation, and why he had not come to the rescue of Nevan. Remembering back Syaoran started.

"The first few days of your absence I thought nothing of. I knew you were taking orders directly from Hikado and that you had gone to the ends of the country on missions, I figured you had just left. It was about three days after you left that Hikado called the three of us, Hikari, Kia and myself, into his office. It was there that he told use that you had abandoned us. No, his exact words were, ‘I don't want this rumor sifting through the ranks; you're aware that Nevan - the Uchiha boy, has left us?'.”

Syaoran let this sink in a moment, as he recollected what had happened. Thinking over the next events would be a simple coast over a few days. There were no large events that had stuck out.

"He claimed that you were abducted, not that you had abandoned us, after that, by the same society on this letter. He did say, however, that he thought you had went willingly into the arms of the enemy, but I didn't believe it. After all that we fought for together, I knew you wouldn't just jump ship, there was something else going on.”

He paused here, remembering the reaction Hikari had with the news, the exact opposite of Syaoran. Whether she had wanted to be on Hikado's good side or just hated Nevan, he would not know, but he would leave this bit out. He would not go out of his way to give Nevan more of a reason to dislike Hikari. Kia on the other hand had also fought for Nevan, claiming he would never abandon the team much like Syaoran did. But if he was to reveal the reaction of one the reaction of the other would be inquired, and Syaoran did not want to lie to Nevan, so he withheld both reactions for the time being.

"I wanted to form a team to go and rescue you right away, but Hikado insisted that there was no time, nor reason. The society as he said, was far to powerful to just take on, and if I was to take a team of talented ninja, that it would make Iwagakure no Sato that much more vulnerable to their attack. We all needed to stay together and prepare for the battle to come. I was torn, I wanted to get you back, but I need to defend the village and the girls too…”

Syaoran trailed off, it seemed like a lame apology, but he was really not given any choice. Before he would continue with his story though he needed to fill in the rest of Nevan's story. It seemed natural to switch off like this and tell what happened on each other's side.

"So, when you went to the West, what happened? How did you come to find that Hikado had sent you on a death mission, if your mission was to infiltrate the enemy? I mean, it looks that if that is what you were sent to do, you completed the mission extremely well, become a general and all. I am not taking Hikado‘s side, he may have told us what he did to make sure that your mission was not found out, and to keep you safe. What happened in the West?”

‘Though if the mission was really to do that, why would Hikado inform us at all? Maybe because if a spy had asked one of us, we may have slipped and said he was on a mission without any real knowledge, thus putting him in danger. But then what made Nevan see Hikado as a traitor? What happened to convince him that it was not a genuine mission?'

10728

[Ravage Nocturne]

Struggling against his restraints, he feels the corrosion slowly taking effect as the moisture and colder climate begin to etch away at the structure of his bonds. Flexing his forearms, he pushes, twists, and pulls with attempt to break the swing arm, each effort proving failure. Sneering at the resilience of the handcuffs, he glances towards the door. It was strange to be locked up, even for the short while that he had been. Exquisitely dreary, it did allow him to think on things he never had the time to, and for that much, perhaps a part of him was grateful for all of this. Feeling the pull and drag of his Chakra towards his eyes, he reluctantly opens his Tenketsu and allows the Sharingan to awaken once more. Spinning violently into scarlet, the three tomoe spring into creation, the extra pupils swirling with serenity and purpose. Bathing his world in that blood red hue, he relishes the feeling of heightened awareness, and better appreciates the comfort that the doujutsu tried to push on him.

In it's own way, it felt very much human.

Catching some exchanging of words, Shinaki's interest is piqued, and he scrambles to his feet. Moving towards the wall, he presses his ear against it, and detects Syaoran's voice. Had Nevan finally called for an audience, to explain his side of the story? Despite his greatest efforts to eavesdrop, their conversation only proved to make the Uchiha feel more and more like excess baggage, and less like a prisoner. On some level, this was relief, and on an entirely different one, degrading. Allowing his eyes to drift about his cell, he ponders the level of detachment that was becoming more and more real with each and every passing moment. None of this was his story, so why was he involved with it? Breathing lightly, he slides to the floor and measures the boundaries of his cell. Although it was hardly roomy, it was certainly more comfortable than he figured a prison would be. Honing in on the things that truly bothered him, he closes his eyes to keep from distractions. Up until this point, he had been someone other than himself...had he been persuaded to follow because of that? Shaking his head, he turns to the sheet of metal that hangs so thick between himself and his ex-comrade. Although hope would occasionally spark up within him, he was unable to see any real connection now. Dragging his fingers down the length of the steel, with placidity he follows the current of blood oozing from his wrists, marking his every movement. The friction produced from his attempts to break his cuffs would tear against his skin, and break the blood vessels. It was no surprise to him, but that one quality of blood always caught him off guard. There was something magnificent about the thing; almost as if you could see yourself in a single drop. Like a crimson mirror, while it could reflect his flaws, would it likewise reveal to him his strengths?

Did he even care what Nevan thought anymore?

Would he be saved, if Syaoran believed his story? Or would Nevan seek to free his own self? Would that be better than offering his assistance with some smug expression? Could he swallow his own pride, and allow the Uchiha to save him? Snorting at the idea of it all, he slams his back against the ground, and stares at the ceiling. Whatever, he didn't much care how things turned out. If he was to live, then he would. If he would die, so be it. His life was but one of many, and he had done some amazing things with it. Although his name would likely be remembered only as some terrorist, at least someone would mutter it now and again. No, the simple fact of the matter was that Nevan was in an entirely different position than himself. He always had been, from the very start of it all. Friends all around him, and then that damn favoritism that Madara blessed him with. It was so very cute, pretending that it didn't affect him, but Shinaki couldn't stand that unintentional flaunting. Boo-hoo, my life is pain, but I've got more than you, brother. He had to be either ignorant or blind, to not realize just how good he had it. Considering the difference between them, it felt more appropriate that he should come to understand this, and embrace it. But then, he couldn't really judge. After all, he didn't know that kind of life.

Growling softly, he pulls against his bonds once again, and feels them give a little more. This was going to take a long time, but time was something that he had in abundance. He would either rot here or die a criminal's death. He would not accept the help of Nevan. Had their lives been reversed, he would surely only offer such an opportunity through condensation and arrogance. His hand, Nevan's, would only be extended to prove a point. One that had been known for so long. Shifting his body weight, he rolls onto his side and stares at the wall again. Aside from the spite that he held, he couldn't help but be curious about how things were going. Jealousy and envy certainly obstructed the perspective he held for Nevan, but in his own little way, he hoped that he would be released.

Having already found just who he was on the inside, it was difficult to discern his feelings towards acquaintances and allies alike. Uchiha Nevan, his comrade prior to this situation. He abhorred some aspects of him, but turned green when he saw some sides to him. His exhibition of dominance over the Lightning Element had called for that one damn glint in Madara's eye, while his mastery over Water brought only shame. Disgusted, Madara had dismissed him to train his own pathetic skills, and showed Nevan the art of some Ninjutsu. Fighting off the urge to allow hating words to roll from his tongue, he considers Madara next. Just how did he perceive him? That damn liar; he had promised a world of knowledge, and in turn did nothing more than drag him into some past he did not know, and trapped him in a world other than his own. Where was the wisdom, and where was his promise? In direct contrast, Madara gave the world to his prodigal son, Nevan, and nothing to Shinaki. But then, what more was he than a tool?

He had always been such.

Syaoran, friend of foe? He seemed to fight for justice, and loved his country with all of his heart. No matter how hard he tried to bring his spirits down, the Alchem fought against his words with a heart more golden than any he had known. Prevailing through confidence and belief in liberty, he fought with passion and ideals, unlike himself. While being the opposite to Shinaki, he was also one and the same...somehow. Rolling his eyes, he exhales in the form of a forced laugh. How predictable, this. Because he felt pain, he would try so desperately to shove it off on someone else's shoulders, hoping his burden would lessen because of it. By looking down on others, he reduced the agony that tortured him, but for what real purpose? He would always be haunted by these silhouettes and specters, jeering at his attempts to stride through the obstacles life threw at him.

In a moment of weakness, he always displaced his sins on others.

Pulling hard, he feels the links of his restraints creak against his force, and maintains the sense of energy until the swing arm snaps, relieving him of imprisonment by that much. Rubbing his sore wrists, he glances to evaluate the extent of damage; simple bruising and scrapes. Nothing serious, but painful none the less. Pushing himself to his feet, he begins to pace the cell.

But seriously, what was he going to do?

All of him wanted to hate, hurt, and kill Nevan, Madara, and Syaoran, but another part wanted to have each of their qualities. Nevan's passionate drive and determination, Madara's strength and wisdom, Syaoran's heart and sense of justice. As if he could snatch each of these traits and call them his own, wouldn't that simply revert him back to the mess he had just saved himself from? Giving two light knocks against the steel door, he reminds himself of its durability, and frowns. No, he would not envy, now. He could only take cheer in the fact that at least for now he could take breath, and consider the intricate details of this world. Forcing an awkward smile on his face, he tries to persuade himself in a better mood, dissuading the reality of the situation.

The only hope he had now, is that by some miracle he could save himself. Pride could not be swallowed, otherwise.

How could he face Nevan, when he was so much stronger? How could he ever take his hand and accept help, when he should be the one with all of the power? Shivering with mild reaction to the dampness of his clothes, he detests the cool climate he had produced earlier to break his bonds. Sitting on the bed provided, he grimaces at the lumpiness of it, but relaxes and stretches his limbs across it. How hypocritical, that he had asked Nevan to swallow his pride, and could not do the same. Nevan certainly had passed that test, though.

Could he?

[Exodus]

P

ieces

One after the other; each explanation sunk into his mind. The reason that there was no back up was because Hikado had after all, restricted it with words of weak, that the village could not afford further spill of power; whether it was true or not. Nevan nodded slowly. Their was enough to doubt Nevan and even assume that this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding, but to experience it firsthand and to relive each detailed moment that led to this cell told him otherwise.

"Uchiha Madara.”

Nevan perked his eyebrow as if to insinuate a belief of absurdity. He implied with his expression that this was no coincidence and that with what he had already said; Hikado knew what Nevan was walking into. Infiltration was impossibility; this Uchiha was the King of all Uchiha and could strip the answers of any man at but a whim. Still, this would not be enough for one man to turn, could it?

"It started as Madara weaved words onto me. He told me of how he had witnessed the evil within Hikado before, he spoke of his how Hikado had his hand in the aid of the Kumo war. He enlightened me how the fortress of Iwagakure could have never been breached so easily like it was. Of course, this did not turn me at all; these were just words. I refused to accept his simple hearsay but it didn't seem to bother him. He continued to unveil that past as if he was reliving it. He spoke of how Hikado was once apart of his group and that at one point he had even tried on Madara's life. His true name was… It was… Yoshikazu. Yes; Yoshikazu the Fortunate One.

Nevan remembered at this point, he actually believed the old fool. But it wasn't enough for him to remain and contain a strong conviction for. He needed more. This just wasn't enough.

"Madara had asked openly soon after, a question that confuses me to this day. Why had Yoshikazu allowed me to find this Devil of sorts? His nemesis moreover. At that moment he had removed one of those clairvoyant crystal balls that you might've discovered in your research as an Alchem. I, myself, have come across it in my own studies. Well, he placed it on the table for us to see; it had to be the way he was watching me. But it was the four of you he had shown me. Hikado, Hikari, You and Kia…”

Where was she?

"Yes Sy. I was there in that room, the day Hikado had summoned you all and spoke of my disappearance. I heard it all."

His tone of voice became darkened as he finished the disturbing speech. Nevan remembered the hatred in the response of Hikari, the woman that Syaoran had cared so much for, even Kia herself, she had showed her impassive reaction for Nevan to see and that disheartened him more than anything. But again, Syaoran stood heroic in his moral and swore to bring him back; it was his light from the darkness.

"There is nothing to hide Sy, he revealed it all to me. Hikari wished nothing more than to see me dead and expressed her feelings thoroughly. What teammates right? Oh but there is much more that troubled me about that whole meeting. Why did Hikado assume the worst for me? If anything, my position in their ranks was solidified and I discovered all that was necessary to turncoat and head back for Iwagakure. He left the possibility of my success without a chance; he assumed that I had failed before I even started. Then he even had the audacity to accuse me of the murder of men from within the village that he knew I was nowhere near! His words were chosen carefully to fool you all. He told Hikari, ironically the only one who saw fit for me to die that he had even called Madara a friend once. Everything piled onto each other Sy, and there was no returning for me; people wanted me dead already. Madara's words became truths and Hikado's had become lies, Madara even spoke of how you'd… turn against me.”

[cntrstrk14]

~Round Peg, Square Hole

Hikado and Madara… These two, had known each other, fought with each other, examined one another from the very core out. Syaoran listened to all of this and it pieced together ever so slowly in his head, the falling of Uchiha Nevan and the entire sequence of event. Syaoran weighted the possibilities, taking into account everything he had ever known about Hikado. The plan of Hikado, or the plan of Madara, at this point it was hard to tell whose plan it was exactly, but it all fell into light in front of him.

"Yes, I was not trying to hide it from you, but Hikari did turn on you quickly, it had surprised even me. To be so heartless and just turn your back on someone you called your friend and comrade, it disgusted me. It was actually the reason I dumped her soon after that…”

Syaoran trailed off, he was buying time as he took into view the magnitude of the actions of these two. It was as if a game of chess, each the opposing king and the pawns it laid out before it. Hikado had known that Madara was reading into him, he must have. He stood no gain from letting him have Nevan, he was a strong and loyal fighter, why would he freely hand him over to Madara or to die? It would have made much more sense for him to send Kia or Hikari if it was a death mission, if he had wanted them dead as Nevan had claimed. No, this was far deeper than it was at the surface, the actions of Hikado cut through the absurdity of his words like so much paper.

"Nevan…” Syaoran started slowly, he did not want to start another argument, just bring about his view, "is it not possible that, given their past, Hikado knew that Madara would read into his actions. He may have also known of the crystal and been deceitful all this time in order to trick Madara. He stood no gain from sending you on a death mission, you were a strong and reliable ninja for him, I just can't except that he would do that. Not because I think he is a good person, but because it is just a dumb move.”

Syaoran played it once more in his head. The only way to actually infiltrate this organization, whose leader had been able too spy on Nevan for so long, and easily spy on Hikado, was to live the lie. Even if Hikado did not know the means of the spying, he knew the man behind them, and when he discovered the note, that is when his actions and reasons began to change. He knew he had to live every waking moment from then on out to make it seem as if Nevan would betray him, even if Nevan actually did betray him in the end. He did not know when Madara was watching. Looking down at the letter in his hand Syaoran thought about it. The only way for Nevan, who was already being seeked out by Madara, to infiltrate the society, would be to actually make him join the organization. He would have known Madara's ability to draw information from a person, and he sent Nevan, giving him all the details to doubt. When Madara would try and catch him, Nevan would begin to doubt and turn on Hikado, thus saving his own life and successfully being taken under the wing of Madara. In the process Madara would be tricked and overlook the possibility of the success, coating it and thinking he had outsmarted the Tsuchikage. Hikado's ability to make it seem as if he lost, taking advantage of Madara's pride, and making Nevan think like this was all his way to victory. He had shown it again, when Madara had used his attack. Hikado had simply used his forward pride against the man, entrapping him in his jutsu.

But maybe Syaoran was just stretching the reality of it to defend Hikado. Everything he knew about the man and felt about the man made this seem like the real truth. These pieces just didn't fit though. If he had truly been a traitor, then why would he give his opponent another weapon so easily? If he wanted Nevan dead for another reason, he could have done it himself, sending him to Madara would have been to risky.

Syaoran felt torn, he wanted to stick up and save Nevan, but he just did not see the backing. He truly felt he had jumped to early without knowing the details, or maybe he was required to jump because of the circumstances. Obviously, if he had not truly thought Hikado a traitor and had stood up for him, Madara would have just killed him. Syaoran looked up at Nevan, and posed an interesting question, that may make him think differently about the situation, even if he still believed Hikado a traitor.

"But. Despite what Madara says, or what Hikado said in that meeting, your mission was a complete success. You did infiltrate the society and gain ranking in it. In fact, if Hikado had not been a traitor, wouldn't you be dead right now?”

11601

[Exodus]

Each answer splint into a series of others questions. It dawned on him that moment that this entire situation could never be set to justice. What the two here drew could only be strong and weak assumptions of the situation and nothing more. The only two people with the answers they needed were at the Arena. One presumed dead, the other alive and kicking. However, Nevan believed even if Hikado had come out with his hand on top and his excuses more persuasive than ever; the truth became impossible by the second. This would almost be considered pointless save for the fact that Nevans' true intentions and his true reasons behind his actions were spilled before the one man who could accept them for what they were. From here on out, it was in the hands of the Alchem once more.

"It's a good question Sy, but I truly believe, that I'll never find the answer to that question.”

His voice lost the spirit it had before this, not due to realization of the excuses for the Tsuchikage but rather, there was a chance that he could never justify for himself what his actions had led too. The death of men, women and children were burdened onto him but even so, there was no option to put a stop to it neither. He wondered what would happen to him now and if this Alchem had enough influence to actually prevent life in prison; if that is what Hikado chose for his punishment. This state of affair became all too perplexing and filled with too many different end results; he wished for an end just so he could move on with his life.

"Mission successful or not; I'll be held as a disgrace.”

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran felt a sinking in his stomach, Nevan's voice had died down and he had been dragged through the mud. Even if Syaoran was right about Hikado, that he had foreseen like a prophet through all of this and it had all been according to plan, he had destroyed the psyche of Nevan. It may have been necessary, or the only choice he had because of the circumstances, but the damage that it had done to his friend was far to great. Syaoran lifted a hand and placed it on Nevan's shoulder.

"Nevan…”

Syaoran started, but had no idea what to say. No words he could think of could possibly comfort him. He had no idea what it was like to be used and betrayed to such an extreme, assuming his assumption was right. He took a deep breathe and exhaled. There was much to do upstairs, many things to tend to as the battles died down. He still did not know where Kia or Hikari were, though he did know that if Hikado's fight was finished, he would be informed. He would spend some time down here though, he had not been there for Nevan for the past couple weeks, the young man was more than deserving of a bit of his friends time. Trying to cheer him up a bit Syaoran started again.

"So how was the West? I have not been out that way yet.”

[Exodus]

S

hades ~

"Sy, it felt like hell.”

Nevan had no other means of putting it. He traveled the barrens for a time he could not calculate. There were no flowers, no trees and no exotic views. It was hell in its purest form and it drained him each moment he walked it. He remembered the first indication of life was that of a bunch of criminals who paraded their weight and strength around. Nevan had the chance to turn a section of them into dust in defense of an innocent caravan that made its path through the barren wasteland and there is where it all begun. He kept this to himself however.

"There was nothing for miles.”

He stressed his words, and perhaps overstated his statement a bit. Did it matter at all anyway? Syaoran was finally here, and Nevan had someone who cared for his welfare right next to him. After all that, he still wasn't alone. The wonders of punishment and what would happen next sunk into the furthest recesses of his mind and he rejoiced on what it felt like to be apart of something once more; for however long this would last. Nevan attempted a smile, this one not filled with malevolence and cruel intent, but instead filled with happiness.

[Ravage Nocturne]

Adopting a more friendly tone, the two began to have what sounded like a pleasant conversation between two friends. The seriousness of the atmosphere began to dampen with the newfound complacency between the Alchem and the Uchiha, but with such casual chatter came only curiosity with Shinaki. The thought of possible resolution drew his heart nearer to a more light and natural sensation, until reminding himself that the entire thing was one-sided. Having contemplated this, the kindling flame within was quickly snuffed, removing what hope had been birthed for a moment. He had refrained from listening in on them, but the walls proved far too thin, and failed to nullify the volume that jumped between them. Against his greatest efforts, he was slowly drawn into bits and pieces of their talk, every now and then causing his mentality to shift either closer to depression or to mirth.

The banality of their banter dissuaded him from tuning in, yet intrigued him all at once. The case seemed that the pair were finally understanding the tension between them, relieving the friction and setting the grounds for negotiation. Shinaki was glad for Nevan, but in all honesty felt more abandoned than he ever had before. So easily passing through trivial inquiries or explanations tore him apart as he began to realize that even prior to this scenario, he had never been that close to the one he considered his brother. He had been kept at a reasonable distance, perhaps, but one far greater than he wished. Shifting uncomfortably on his bed, he considers this fact, and spits on the floor. No, he was simply a detestable creature in the eyes of his brethren. It was as simple as that. Rolling onto his back, he itches at the dark blue jacket as the moisture clings to his skin. There was an irritating sensation of dampness that kept attracting his attention, and it was most bothersome.

Abandonment, denial. Both coursed through his mind as he recalls the fact that not once had he even been mentioned. Nothing more than a passing breeze, had Nevan disregarded him so easily? Shutting his eyes tight against the blackness of his world, Shinaki tries to imagine himself away from this place, to no avail. A part of him wished dearly that Nevan would just forget about him, as well as Syaoran, the two of them never again recalling his name or face. Leaving him to rot and die would be a far greater fate than the one potentially in store for him. The triplicate Sharingan spins at a dull pace, reflecting the mood of its master. No longer capricious and excitable, it remained lax in performance, and overall still.

Well, good for him.

At least one Uchiha would be leaving this place the same. Fingering the material of his shirt, he is once again reminded of the wetness of his body. Yes, how perfect, this new painting. Now full of color and aesthetic beauty, the two of them would dance merrily into the sunset, leaving the demon seed behind. Extending a hand only in mockery, they would assume that Shinaki was somehow involved in this whole mess. As if he needed their saving him.

As if he was important at all.

Jeer on, he figured. What difference could it possibly make how this turned out? He would not be accepted as a brother again, and could not accept Nevan as such, for abandoning him so quickly. No, Nevan did not deserve his allegiance any further, did he? He had acted as closely to a brother as possible, and unintentionally harmed him. To that end, did he truly deserve this twisted justice? To be forgotten and hated for some crime he did not understand until too late? Snorting at the idea, Shinaki opens his eyes. Yes, how ironic, that no matter how hard he tried to get close to others, he only ended up more distant from them.

He would never leave this place.

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran listened to every word Nevan said, even if they were few. The battles were still dying down outside, and Hikado had not come back yet. He could not let the two of them out until at least the battles were over and Hikado had come back, assuming he did come back.

"Nevan, I want to let you out of here, its obvious your still not an enemy of Iwagakure herself, but I cannot do that until at least the battles are over and Hikado comes back. I am sure you realize that if I were to let you out now, any opinion I could weigh in on with you would be dismissed as friendship and not a serious matter.”

He paused here, letting the silence overlap for awhile before continuing on with his next thought. The man in the cell next to them was far more dangerous, not because of his power necessarily, but because he did not have any connections in this village and his goal was rather unknown.

"Nevan, I need your opinion on Shinaki.”

Syaoran knew that the man would be listening, so he paused a moment to allow him to scuttle over to the wall and press his ear against it, if he already hadn't been doing so.

"What are his goals? No, let me rephrase that. Are his goals a danger to Iwagakure no Sato. If I were to set him free, would I regret it later?”

Syaoran's question showed his faith in Nevan still. Even though he had turned on him, and attacked the village, he still trust him enough to give an honest opinion of another prisoner.

[Exodus]

Who?

Nevan saw past the walls of that separated him from the person he thought he had known; his imagination carried him into the other room as if he could see Shinaki himself. Nevan didn't know how to answer this; his answer could imperil this situation even further than it had before. It was impossible to draw the conclusion of what this man was and why he had hid his identity. Perhaps he had told Syaoran, but an explanation to Nevan himself was misplaced. He seemed to care for Nevan much more than others had ever shown face too, but even so, it could be apart of another elaborate scheme. He wished that he could still call him by that name; that name that held so much significance to him in a previous life but had somehow lost its substance when all was said and done.

"He will bring Iwagakure no harm."

And still, as the words echoed through two minds; Nevan understood that he could not abandon someone as hard as he had tried too. To just desert this impostor, would seem an easy task but Shinaki was too fragile and rose from the depths of loneliness to become a friend in war; the two had a small history together, but those times of past meant something to Nevan and he refused to bury those memories. He had hoped that with these words, duplicity would not spark from the Uchiha brother, but if that was to be the case; he'd personally remove his head.

"His name was of no real significance. He is an Uchiha; my brother. You can trust him."

Don't let me regret those words..

[Ravage Nocturne]

The Sharingan was a curious thing. Considering the qualities that his bloodline inheritance exhibited, Shinaki offers a perplexed expression as he lay upon his cot. Swimming slowly within his eyes, the tomoe revolve with clockwise intention, complacent with the mood of Shinaki's. Recalling one instance when Asher had tried to explain the functioning of the doujutsu, he begins to piece together the puzzle that was his blood, eager to understand it for what it was.

Typically, the eye could perceive through two types of photo receptors: rods and cones. The first perceives levels of light in black and white. The second, color recognition. The retina is a sheet with these receptors sewn into it, allowing for the perception of motion and color. There are limitations due to the numbers of rods and cones, explaining why without the Sharingan it is impossible to attain the same level of prediction, or the ability to copy body movement. Normally, the only way to increase one is to decrease the other; sacrificing either color for detailed motion, or vice versa. The tomoe, those dark commas that float so gracefully throughout the doujutsu, those are extra pupils. Since rods are more common around the edges of the eyes, these extra pupils are likewise lined with rods or cones, dependent upon which pupil is examined. That is to say, one pupil is devoted to the objective of sensing color, while another would sense motion. Application of Chakra allows both for the splitting of the single pupil into several, and also accesses the portion of the brain responsible for memory retention. This inspires the memory to become eidetic in nature, during the activation of the Sharingan. This promotes exceptional perception of motion, but also a photographic memory that allows for instant recall of anything seen.

To break it down further, the smaller center pupil is lined with cones. This pupil is responsible for perceiving color; due to it's diminutive sizing, it is incapable of receiving some colors, explaining why shades of red, white, or black are visible, while others are not. As for each individual tomoe, their purposes vary. The first tomoe that forms is lined in excess with rods, allowing for detailed perception of motion. The second works in conjunction with memory retention, allowing for the copying of movement perceived. The third allows for prediction of motion, hence foresight, by inferring through rational physics the actions that can take place. Finally, the slender and many times forgotten pupil that runs through each of the tomoe, that is the one that ties them all together, allowing for the ability to understand what is seen without confusing the brain. Without this nearly invisible pupil, the three different pupils would be looking in three different directions, unable to focus on or anything going on.

It was an amazing feature.

The exchanging of words involving his name jarrs the young Uchiha from his reflection, and promotes a sneer. Just why was his name one to be brought into such casual conversation? He had realistically no relation to the entire concept that they had been discussing prior to his tuning out, so what now had changed? Molding the Chakra around his body, he amplifies the sound waves that pierce through the walls, allowing him greater sensitivity to their voices, bolstering his ability to pick up their speaking. Frowning at the implication that he had anything to do with this village, Shinaki rolls his eyes and relaxes his body. He was always perceived as some angry beast, wasn't he? Wherever he went, people considered him feral and dangerous, despite his debonair visage and calculating posture. His innermost qualities went unbeknown due to the assumptions of others, making him nothing more than a clone of what people wished him to be. They tarnished the name of the Uchiha Clan by thinking him something so unstable, and it often times bothered him greatly. There was no one deed he could perform to change the minds of society, so he never tried.

People believed only what they wanted.

He was no longer a pitiful entity, and cringed at the assumption of his fragility that Nevan made. He was certainly not made of glass; he never had been. Misplaced intentions caused their distance to become that much more apparent, as compassion is drowned in pity. There was no sympathy or empathy in the matter, it was simply Nevan's way of expressing what could be guilt in having let such a small situation get the best of him.

No words could redeem him.

Rising to a sitting position, he glances sideways to the wall, and watches their Chakra signatures. The image was blurry due to the thickness of the steel, but easy to make out due to the Alchem's strange blue and gold blend. Of course, he could be wrong. Perhaps Uchiha Nevan most honestly felt a connection between them, and wished to maintain it despite their differences. Perhaps he was not lulled into admitting such a thing through guilt, but instead believed it with all of his heart.

But what about the duplicity? Was he not aware of his most neutral state?

He had been taken advantage of by Madara, and thrown headlong into a war he didn't understand. He couldn't fight for it with all of his heart, because he had no ideals to uphold. It was hearsay and personal experience that Madara spoke of, nothing concrete. Still, there had been no turning back. He had further been disgraced by having been jailed on the basis that he was a terrorist. A simple soldier performing his duty, he had fought because he had no other choice. His actions of remorse inclusive of his putting out any fires that had spread to the Innocent's homes went clearly unnoticed, and this irked him.

People only saw what they wanted.

Iwagakure no Sato had done nothing for him, except bury him in this tomb. Without negotiation or consideration of his position, he was interrogated to reveal facts and information that any other Yukigakure shinobi could have offered, and then left to himself. Although he couldn't complain about the isolation -for he had been growing rather fond of it- he disliked the idea that he was not given a chance to explain himself more fully. Friendship had blinded Syaoran, and kept him from believing a word he said, would it had gone against those of Nevan's. It seemed that even he refused to hear his side of this story, as he did not prod as to reveal more depth and explanation.

He never cared; he was nothing but an animal to him.

He had no reason to remain an ally to this place. It was a dark and horrid thing, promoting opinion over fact, and questioning the intentions of those not deserving. The people were complacent with their lives of deceit and of danger, so why would he ever admit to never wishing to do this place harm?

It had drawn first blood, after all. It cut the deepest wound so long ago.

Yes, if he were to be honest he could admit possible acts against Iwagakure in the future, despite the slimness of chance. In order to perform such violent things, it would require him to summon up the ability to care about this place at all. And he did not. Let it rot, or radiate with growth and bounty. In either case, this was not his homeland, and never would be. What could he care, if it fell to disease or poverty or death? Igniting the oxygen around his palm with minimal Chakra, he creates a small flame that burns an inch above his skin, warming his body.

If people wanted to fear him, he would give them reason...someday.

Watching the flickering motion of the genesis, the Sharingan spins peacefully as it regards the properties of the fire. No, he and Nevan would never share a bond again. But he would not know this. How many times now had he been promised everything, and given nothing? How many people swore friendship or brotherhood, and threw it all away for some insignificant reason? How many times would he be referred as an "it" instead of a "he". How many more times would this world press him, and pressure him, and hurt him? No, never again. He would become the perfect ally, and the best friend to whoever wished it. No matter the past, nor the future, he would exceed the expectations of those around him, and act as someone worth loving and believing in.

And then, he would exact his revenge upon them.

Was he dangerous? Perhaps, but no more so than any other shinobi. He had no plans of world domination nor of murder. He wished simply to impact those who had harmed him with such ease a pain far greater. Somehow, and sometime, he would rise above the pack, and defeat the words that they could speak. A product of malcontent and hate, he had been spawned a devil, instead of a saint. Whoever gnashed their teeth and prayed for his death in the end, they would only be reaping the seeds they had sown in him. Perhaps things would turn out for the better, but he felt as though it were an impossible thing to dream. He had been hated and labeled so many times now, what would stop them except the revenge that he would create?

On that note, perhaps death could be a considerable punishment.

Smiling at his decision, Shinaki feels a tug behind his eyes as more Chakra is swallowed by his doujutsu, the Mangekyou slowly merging the tomoe together into some malicious format. Spinning wild and furious, it reflects the darkness within his mind, and feeds upon it with voracious appetite.

They would pay, someday, for their sins against him. All of them.

Edited January 6, 2007 by Ravage Nocturne

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran thought about this, he would weigh in Nevan's opinion and try and get the other Uchiha out of imprisonment, or maybe into imprisonment if his conviction leads to death. There were so many things Syaoran wanted to say to Nevan, he had not seen him in so long, and had worried about him every day until now. Syaoran made to open his mouth again, as he recalled something he had said earlier, which had bugged Syaoran, and which Shinaki had not been able to answer.

"Nevan, you said before that ‘Hikado did not just insult him, no; he offended an entire nation. A nation that sought his blood. There was no convincing, especially after what I saw.' What is it that you saw? What did Hikado do to Yukigakure no Sato, what is their involvement in it all? Why would they amass such a force and give Madara the power to invade Iwagakure no Sato just for one man?”

Syaoran waited for the answer patiently, he was seeking for the truth behind Hikado, and he would hear both sides before making his own judgment on the man, though his judgment would not matter in the long run, Hikado would still rule Iwagakure no Sato if he survived, unless he stepped down himself or the council was convinced otherwise. Syaoran nervously twisted the gold and red ring on his finger, using the thumb to move it around, facing the emblem of the Iwagakure no Sato council inward and feeling it with the tip of his thumb.

Would they be able to see through the deceit of someone they placed all their hope into?

[Exodus]

Q

uestions ~

Nevan felt it in his stomach; he was exhausted, starved and hadn't had proper sleep since he had left this war torn homeland. Realistically, it hadn't been too long since his imprisonment, but the effects started to etch themselves into his inconsequential paranoia. He couldn't stand the confinement within these walls and somehow, it empowered him with an overwhelming and irresistible desire to escape. He hid it well and maintained his repressive emotion; he could become quite violent and the Alchem knew this, but it was rare. The chatter continued between the two comrades and Nevan considered each word in their own depth. Recollections helped him to reinforce his own opinion on the matter and then the question came.

"It's funny. The measure of detail that we Uchiha can bear in mind is remarkable.”

He smiled, Nevan could almost feel the exact moment that this speech had finalized the resolve that Nevan had drew upon Hikado. It was in this moment that he stood in the heavens above the arena and watched down on the catastrophe that boiled onward. He looked down upon them as if their existences were filled with a pitiable weakness that could not be contained; they all craved war. It showed in their expression as blood was split and their adrenaline took over their façade of innocence.

"Bringer of Justice. For your crimes against the nations of both Yuki and Iwa. This man, he claims to be the savior of Iwa. A traitor to two nations. He opened the doors of Iwa to Kumo two years ago. In quitting allegiance to the Princess and killing her noble guards in assassination attempt, in attempt to rule the country; I stopped him. In his desire for power he cut a deal with Kumo. He handed Iwa over to Kumo. He fought against Iwa under guise of another. I was there too...

His words were exact; I remember them as if his voice still echoed throughout these dark halls. His speech was firm and resolute and at this point I expected Hikado to at least strike these accusations down in front of his men with a truth that could easily counter these supposed lies that Madara told. But no, he implied an acceptance to them and said;”

Nevan paused and remembered how these indictments sent Hikado into frenzy. He remembered how he called out with absolute vehemence and Nevan could feel the evil chill through his bones. Yes, Nevan remembered those words unmistakably and so he whispered them to Syaoran;

"And I killed you that day Madara."

Nevan knew the Alchem would draw an explanation to it, but Nevan did not matter for such as he riddled himself with these clues and hints that troubled him more than anything. However, the silence was left for these two understand the depth of what that meant and how far could those two men reach in their past together. What happened between them? This slaughter would be placed on their heads in one way or another and Nevan would not forgive them if the answer continued to elude him so.

"Maybe, just maybe, the Princess blessed Madara with such a force… To bring Hikado to justice.”

[cntrstrk14]

~Breaking the Circle

Forgiveness

Syaoran remembered the words as he heard them a second time. They had been blurred and meshed at the time as he was in combat with the Yukigakure no Sato ninja. Syaoran had already known this though, but at the same time Syaoran could not hate Hikado for it. In some twist of events, Nevan was in the boat as Hikado, having turned his back on an entire village for the sake of one goal. Syaoran contemplated it over in his head before he spoke, in a similiar hushed tone so that only Nevan could hear.

"But, he is not like that now. He rescued, returned and lead the Country of Earth to salvation from the Country of Lightning. Maybe it was his way of paying back for his mistakes. I mean, you are in a similar situation for all we know, since we have not heard Hikado's side, and may never hear it. He may have had a reason to turn on Yukigakure no Sato and Iwagakure no Sato, just like you did to turn on Iwagakure. But if we do not forgive him, like I forgave you, then we will just be in an endless circle of blood. He has done more than enough to prove his allegiance to Iwagakure no Sato, even if he was instrumental in its downfall in the first place. I still trust him, despite his past. That is what friendship is.”

Syaoran ended, the last part didn't sound right, the corny quality of it was terrible sounding, but Syaoran did not care. He never had when it came to friendship. He was always straightforward on his views and how he felt, there was no need to hide them, especially from his own nakama, the highest type of friend.