before the sky split [ninjago next generation]

i am not my father's son, part 3

Ronin had taken to letting his body fall limply into his chair, a change from the carefully carefree man who had once occupied the faded seat. His fall, literal fall from grace and graces reverberated around the decrepit shop. Ryuzo stared unfeelingly at the cracked wall mirror as he adjusted the way the black leather trench coat fit across his shoulders. He admired the way his shoulders filled it out, as if it were truly bespoke rather than lifted out of some rich prick's closet. It flowed behind him like a skirt might and he savoured the sensation on the back of his legs.

"Yes?" Ronin prompted impatiently.

"As you know, I am sixteen years old today," said Ryuzo calmly. He took his eyes from the reflection of his father and stared down at the man. "An adult in certain regions."

"And?" Ronin tapped on the worn arms of the once-plush armchair. His feet tapped impatiently, as if they yearned for a chase his body could no longer make.

"And I've been doing a little thinking." Ryuzo said. Ronin chuckled.

"You don't have to do that."

"I'm thinking anyways." Ryuzo opened the drawer of Ronin's desk, then he opened the false bottom. Ronin gave him a look of blank disappointment as he lit a cigarette and slowly took a drag. The taste of smoke filled his mouth as he raised his head to the rafters of the rickety shop. "You weren't a good father."

"Yeah, no shit," the man chuckled. "Violeta showed up right out there with you one day and I never questioned a thing."

"And you should have abandoned me then." Ryuzo took another drag of the cigarette between his fingers as Ronin's head rolled back to laugh with his throat exposed.

"Oh, kid, you're still naïve. There's people out there who'll do so much worse to a little boy."

"That's all you have to say for why you weren't better?"

"Of course not. I wasn't supposed to be a father."

"Then you should have killed me."

"Oh, trust me, I know."

Ronin watched as Ryuzo tapped ash from the cigarette. Ryuzo fought to keep his face neutral. A smile threatened to bloom on his lips.

"So what now?" Ronin spread his arms. "We're done here? Or you're going to kill me?"

Ryuzo ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth. His free fingers played with the dagger hidden under his coat. He eyed the second drawer of Ronin's desk, which he knew had a false bottom that concealed a pistol. He eyed Ronin's throat.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"Oh, you know," Ronin muttered. Ryuzo held the cigarette between his lips as he moved behind the desk once again. His father fiddled with calluses on his palm from years of shitty swordsmanship. Ronin's folded face contorted as his voice softened. "Something your mother said. I've got some soft spot in me."

"Am I your weakness?" Ryuzo asked. He kicked the second drawer open so he didn't have to stoop to watch his father as he scoffed. The sound reverberated with a dizzying clang.

"Collateral to be damaged."

"Why the fuck would any woman look at you and think she can change you?" Ryuzo groaned. His eyes flicked between the empty drawer and the man who had shown him the ugly end of the world.

"Beats me, kid."

Ryuzo bent down to lift out the false bottom of the drawer. His heart dropped as it revealed another empty compartment and he heard the pistol lock above his head. He raised his head slowly as his heart pounded as if it wanted nothing more than distance from the dagger he wore. But he didn't draw it yet. Ronin coughed into the air. It sounded diseased. Ryuzo's lip curled.

"Are you going to kill me?" He whispered. Ryuzo stared down the barrel and he knew that Ronin never pointed an empty gun. He raised his hands in angry surrender and stared through his eyebrows until his eyes burned.

"Should I?" Asked Ronin. He shrugged as his son stared a bullet in the eye. "Just making good on something I should have done long ago."

He shoved the gun towards Ryuzo as smoke burned his nostrils.

"Say the word."

"I needed a fucking father," he hissed through his teeth

"Yeah, well, too late for that."

"You're not going to apologise? Or anything?"

"What do you care?" sighed Ronin. His gun hand never faltered. "Don't change the past."

"Fuck you."

"Heard that one a million times."

"I'm going to find my family," Ryuzo whispered. He took the cigarette from his mouth and extinguished it against the table.

"I'm right here, kid."

"My mother."

Ronin scoffed.

"Violeta was a whore. You know she dumped me with you."

"Then I'll start in the redlights," Ryuzo replied firmly. "And I'll find my siblings."

Ronin laughed. He lowered the gun.

"And what good will that do you?"

"I've decided what the fuck I want to be when I grow up." Ryuzo glared as Ronin laughed again.

"Oh? And what's that?"

"My own bloody person. Not your shadow. Not your pickpocket. I am my own man."

"Oh, sure," Ronin chuckled sarcastically. He threw the gun down on the desk and Ryuzo's hands fell down by his side. The bracelet he had worn since boyhood slipped from under his sleeve. Ronin gestured towards it with a toss of his hand. "I've watched you play with that chick's bracelet for years. Shoo."

"What?"

"Shoo, kid." Ronin gestured towards the door. "Go find yourself. You'll get your arse back here when you're done."