Cardfight!! Vanguard G: Z World

#60: Welcome Home

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Even though everyone's tried to help me heal from my past, and change me from my bloodthirsty ways, it hasn't worked out. Fighting those urges to hurt someone has been my inner war for the past year. Even though I'm thankful to Ayato for giving me better living conditions while imprisoned, I don't think my feelings have changed at all, even with all my therapy sessions.

As I tried to rehabilitate myself and serve my time in jail, I missed all those flimsy bonds and connections I made during that past year. My friendships through all the conflict that I've been involved in. There was Izanoku and her freak boyfriend Masaru. Those pieces of good-willed shits like Zak and Ayato. Even that bastard Ryuzaki and his crew managed to touch me in some way.

Payic was my personal favourite because she was the nicest to me. She cooked up a real storm and also took care of me the most from all of them. I enjoyed sparring against that meathead Maverick to blow off steam. There were times I nearly killed him, but he's a surprisingly tough motherfucker. I have no idea what that bitch mutt they owned even did. I thought about killing him a couple of times because he was so damn useless.

In my solitude, I got a chance to think a lot about the meaning of everything I've been through until now. Something like self-reflecting, or whatever. I learnt the hard way that I wasn't the only one who suffered a cruel hand dealt by life. If there was one thing similar between me and everyone else, it was the fact that we all struggled our own way.

Everyone rolls the die of fate when they're born, hoping Lady Luck will work in their favour. But reality isn't like those shitty fairy tales I heard of, from the trafficked kids in the old mansion from my past. The moment a new person is born, it brings misery and suffering to someone else's life.

That's why when he approached me for advice, I was surprised. What could a cold-blooded serial killer like me ever teach an upstanding young man like him? He was the perfect person, while I was an imperfect person. I was a useless human being through and through. I was only good at one thing: murder. I couldn't even cook my own fried chicken.

But slowly, that perception of an upstanding young man was peeled away as he explained his grim intentions. I could see a piece of "me" in him. Through that talk, I finally understood everything about who I was as a person. I could finally contextualise the reason why I killed.

It was so I could get revenge on this bastard world for dealing me such a shitty hand in life. But if everyone gets a shitty fate, then why do I express my anger through this violent mean? Am I just a deranged psycho for doing so? I came to the conclusion that I've never moved from my original position. I'd been sinking in the same place, drowning in my own shallow thoughts that I thought was sobering me. The reality was I was getting drunk off a fake hope that I had it better than someone else, and that my life had any meaning for existing.

Bullshit. I became the one thing I swore I'd never become. An edgy piece of shit. Fuck the old me.

Instead of sipping on the kool-aid of self-deprecation forever while my one life is rotting away in this cell, I can make a difference in this world. Instead of thinking about "change", I'll act on that impulse unlike everyone else. Even I'm tired of thinking about that dumb bullshit.

After helping that boy deal with his troubles, I felt a sense of self-gratification. A sense of worth, because I managed to touch someone's heart with my crummy words that made no sense. Instead of my cold hands seeking blood and flesh, it was my own thoughts that helped them.

I had one of those epiphanies everyone talks about. My entire life ever since I was freed from that solitude cell the first time had become dedicated to helping someone else, because that gave me a sense of worth, even though I failed to recognise it. I couldn't give a shit about Zeroth Dragons, or about Gyze.