His messy slick black hair gleamed against the sun, forming a silhouette against the shadows under his darkened eyes. His expression was stiff, yet it was the first time they saw his eyebrows furrows like he was in deep thoughts. What could possibly be troubling the dark prince?
Staring at his magnificent presence even in his pitiful mood, he looked dashing like a surreal piece that came out from a morbid painting. Its dark content broke free behind its frames.
He walked with ease as if he was not burdened by the weight of the corpses piled upon his shoulders.
Aside from the dust and dirt attached to his boots, his trousers and shirt were painted with various shades of red and brown, his face was not an exception. The bloodstains covered up almost all parts of his white clothing, turning it into a massacre canvas with the distinct smell of blood.
Seeing him walking and approaching near his seat, the old man had a welcoming smile on his lips. Another odd sight to see from his men's perspective as they couldn't find the soul to swallow such rare sight. Their souls, rather, are still in the process of coming back to their bodies as the task of clearing the corpses in the field crushed them heartlessly. How could they not grieve? These were the corpses of the people they once called family. They can still hear their evident cries, the cries of the undead that will surely haunt them to their sleep.
They breathe in relief to see him drop his sword, at least.
Everyone thought the young master finally cooled down his temper, and the lives of the remaining forty-eight survivors were saved, who truly believed a drop of miracle has come forth to heed their prayers. But as the old headmaster Woo was about to stand on his seat. Everyone witnessed before their eyes how his proud and treasured grandson that he always boasts to his colleagues brushed past him and instead, walk straight towards his trembling butler. Completely ignoring the existence of a man whose lineage was straight to royalty written in the present history books of the land of the rising sun.
That makes the young master no different.
"Gun," Hiro said to his butler.
The poor man did not think twice. He immediately laid out and opened the five briefcases he had been carrying around, causing everyone to freeze in their place, not as much as he does.
Pardon? Did they hear that right?
G-Gun?!
His butler withdraws his trembling hands and drops his knees on the ground, his head and sleeves pressed against the muddy ground before him, he did not care of how his wife would react seeing the stains, but it was better than not being able to come home for the rest of his life.
"I see you have improved your swordsmanship skills. The numbered men we lost were worth the risk." What a pity, if these men have lived long enough, they will surely witness a great liege on the next line, far more superior than any mankind on history and serve him with their heads and dignity offered at hand.
"Kai, my boy, why don't we have a talk and catch up?"
He always has a good eye towards exceptional people. This grandson of his is beyond a compatible heir to succeed on his thrown at calculated years from now.
Just a little push and he would be resting in his hometown to an extent, which he thought was a simple fantasy of his. He can't wait to have his morning tea laid out fresh with the overview of his garden.
"What do you say, boy?"
If that moment comes, he could be at peace at last.
Hiro took off his glove and wore a new one before beginning to load the bullets in his guns.
"Sacrifices my ass."
"That's not the answer I'm expecting," his grandfather heavily said. The amount of authority in his voice was no joke.
"Your men," Hiro utters coldly without looking back at his grandfather, "I thought they were sparrows," weaker than infant birds, he must say.
Unbeknownst to the prejudices surrounding him, his voice reached and painfully rang to the crowds' ears.
"You never failed to amaze me with your arrogance. I'll consider that as a kind insult," he'll let this one slide, just like the previous ones.
Everyone knew better. The arena was getting twice colder than usual.
Hiro brushes past his grandfather the second time around like he was just some passing breeze, "What a shame, looks like I needed a flock and more."
Just as he said, it's worth to risk, no?
Their jaws almost detached from their faces. With that dangerous statement of his ringing inside their heads, everybody's heart leaped out of their chest. Their faces could tell how much agony and misfortune the gods have bestowed upon them. Thinking of their beloveds inside their heads, they grieved heavily as the chances of their master tossing them to the battlefield is higher than the hunches they had in mind regarding their survival.
If the young man was already ruthless in a spar, what more can he do with a gun, with just one pull of his trigger?
With Hiro's back facing his grandfather, he raised his arm and waved the gun in his hand.
One loud slap of a hand against an armrest echoed in the field.
"Hiroshima!"
His grandfather's furious voice caused a few hearts to drop.
Hiro paused from his step. As he turned to look back, he aimed the gun in his hand directly towards his grandfather's secretary's head. His eyes had never been cold with immense rage. They were shooting glaciers and flames, a deadly combination.
Hiro's hand clench tightly around the heavy object within his grasp, tempted to pull the trigger with his finger.
"Mark my words, young man. Stop while I'm still on loose," The entitled Toshi Aizawa Woo blurt out. He rose from his seat, furious not because he saw his secretary almost lifeless on the ground, but because of the cocky behavior of one unstable cub he, himself, couldn't even get a hold of.
Hiro grits his teeth, point his gun away and pull the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the whole field, followed by a gruesome cry of a sparrow that fell from the sky. Its dead and unmoving body joins the piled corpse on the field.
Finally, his eyes looked over his grandfather, emitting a different aura around him before walking towards the exit. He suddenly lost interest.
It was useless. His uneasiness never left his body.
"We're not yet done talking young man!"
Even with weakened knees, Dong Yu force himself up with the help of his master's men assisting him, "Y-Young master, heave the words of your grandfather."
While Dong Yu's bravery and loyalty towards Toshi, had pleased his master, the crowd opposes his words as their eyes followed the man walking towards the exit without a sound.
The storm is finally departing, the strong typhoon responsible for the carnage it left.
His last words left the crowd in victory.
"I'm going," He breathes.
To a place where he should be from the start.