Soul searching was one of those things where you go on long walks or sit outside on a swing and think about life. That type of activity people needed to do a few times a year to stay on track, to get a plan with their future or something equally as attractive. Lots of people soul searched, to find the root core of their belief of life and their motives. The thing is, for a shinobi or someone who had lots of power, soul searching was something that was never done. Most shinobi lived a life of killing and as they become stronger the killing only increases. Every shinobi accepts, or at least most accept that they are not one, they are many. They are apart of a whole and thus they must fight for the greater good. A shinobi must accept 'self' looses all meaning, you only become an instrument in which your village can act. There's no more soul searching in that. Many shinobi are just pawns, a few of the upper level shinobi actually become shields and swords but not many. Not many people become that good, but for the few that do soul searching is something that hurts.

We all know that sword has no soul. It's nothing but a piece of metal cut into a sharp-looking point. The sword has no emotions or anything, it's cold and it knows nothing. The controllers are the people who fight with the sword. Even now a shinobi must realize he is a dead sack of metal when he is in a village. When you have accepted your role as a sword or shield then you come to realize that soul searching can go all the way back to your childhood and opening those repressed memories is like opening up a scar wound. Shihouin realized that. After battling Iesu, what else is there? Seriously? What else is there for a shinobi who was a sword, a leader and a killer?? A sword can transition into a staff, or something more appealing like a flower. It takes time and many people that bump too close to the edge will get cut and until the sword slowly morphs and becomes duller, there still exists ways of injuring people.

When you've done so much damage to so many people it's like sharpening yourself on a whetstone. You get sharper, clearer, deadlier... those things take time to change. Not unless you put that shinobi up against the most talented so he can clash up against an equally sharper sword. Katsumi was that other sharp sword he wanted to test against, but he was gone. Ayame was nowhere to be found and all that was left was the dead memories of Nasamea, Kaosu and the others. No one else mattered. The only one there was was Michio and who wants to soul search with those repressed memories flooding his thoughts? Michio was the only person to ever humiliate him to that level, not even after killing his father had he felt that bad. The same person who only wanted to kill him for his strength and take his eyes for his own personal gain had not matched Michio.

The only person he knew capable of making any sense of this and getting back at Michio, was Ikkou. Ikkou had accurately predicted these things. With that kind of foresight.. Shihouin could not help but find his way back on Water Country soil again, headed towards him. The battle with Iesu had proven one thing, that destroying Konoha had been the worst move ever. During this miserable walk of shame to Ikkou, he had realized that he thought everything was a game. When Ayame had almost beat him to death and he narrowly survived, it was nothing but a game that was loosing its fun. In destroying Konoha it was the end of the game, a game he thought he would be able to play again. His goal was to be the one who played the best, to make the correct moves and to do things that everyone wished they could do. The Hokage position had been nothing but a feint for attention, in which he was used by the village. Even the real feelings he had shared for Hana had been fake, because he was lying to her. Everything was not so good with Konoha, he hid his tyrannical leadership from her. Wherever she was, she would be faced dealing his his history attached do her name.

This is the reason why a shinobi cannot soul-search. This is the exact reason why someone like Shi cannot try to plan out his life and try to steer himself on track. He never had a plan to begin with. He played the game to play it, not prepared for the ending or once someone like Ikkou would come along. Even though Michio had made a perfect move and bruised his pride permanently, Ikkou did more than that. He was one of those people that would sit there and wait for you to make your most important move when he already had a counter hidden. Then, he was the person who would take the game and your perception of its inner-workings, grab the edges of it and flip everything up into the air. All the pieces flailing and falling, the board twisting and breaking in the air.

Let's play a new game was not so easy when someone like Shi, lived for the game. It was not so easy when someone like Shi had made the game his world, his life. He had been living in [i]the game[/b] and not reality. He had become a character in the game and not a player. No matter how strong the boss of the game was, he was nothing if no one played the game. He was a dull piece with no emotions that sat there on the board, lifeless. He was just like a shinobi, a sword. He was just like Shihouin. A powerful, lifeless weapon which could do nothing without a player. A shinobi, a game character... They can't soul search, because they don't have souls.

As he walked inside of the gates he had begun to realize this. He skipped past everyone with his Sharingan on, waiting for the chakra bodies to move behind the walls and manifest as ANBU. Everything went on code red and they materialized out of nowhere around him. One of them grabbed him, forcing his hands behind his back. He let it happen, what good was it now? He could still kill them all right where they stand, he had that power. What use was it, if he had realized that Michio had been 'playing' him all along and Ikkou had flipped the game upside down? One of the ANBU shouted. "How do we know this is not a clone?? He's capable of creating clones that can even sustain most fatal attacks!!" The ANBU grew silent and stopped for a split second. Anyone could hear how a few of the scared ones drug their feet back against the dirty tiled flooring. One of the ANBU approached Shihouin and touched him on the shoulder, interrupting several who were preparing some dangerous level techniques. "Fall asleep. No clone can survive this.." He placed a firm hand on Shihouin's shoulder. Even with the Sharingan warning him of the massive surge of chakra about to overwhelm his brain, he did nothing. He only remembered the feeling of weight on his head and then blacking out.

The time frame was irrelevant at this point. However long he had been out could have been days, weeks, months under Ikkou's rule. He noticed that he had been changed. They wrapped him up in a straight jacket, but his arms weren't tied, nor were there any straps. He was singled out in the same grey-scale room, the same desk, the same chair, everything. They had forced him in white head to toe, even in these unusually tight clothes. An ANBU member opened the door. "You'll notice that you can manipulate chakra in here, but... just so you know, it's only so we can. You make any false move and you'll die instantly. You won't even know... You'll just drop. This'll give Ikkou a bit more leeway when he comes. That suit you're in keeps you from doing anything dangerous, like manipulating any real quantity of your own chakra so you're no threat. Casting genjutsu from Sharingan or any ninja technique only tightens that jacket. The more you fight, the more you kill yourself." Shihouin's Sharingan... these tight legs, shoes and jacket... They were set on doing this. "Ikkou will be in here shortly. Enjoy it, you murderous fuck."

And the murderous fuck waited.

vI imagined a tiger that lost his roar. I said tiger, not lion. I don’t really consider them the ‘king of the jungle’ because lions don’t necessarily live in jungles. Look it up, it’s a fact. I say tiger because in this world, in this reality, we associate tigers as one who has the ferocity of a king’s wrath, the prowess of any deadly killer and the loyalty of a soldier, all of those positives things we usually associate a tiger with or likeness of a tiger. I imagined what would happen if a tiger lost his roar. What would it do? Where would it go? It would start off as a roar and perhaps the tiger would compensate with a bite or perhaps the swing of his paw. Maybe it’ll do that for awhile before it realizes that the bite and paw doesn’t do nearly as much as a roar did. That roar was its sense of a pride, that sense of breaking free of its earlier life when it was just a small cub, where it had survived from the desolate wastelands of the world and the killers of his own kind and have found its purpose within the clan. When that roar is gone, it is nothing more than a memory now, forgotten and lost within the air of the world where the roar once echoed out and vibrated the lands and shook the earth. It was pride, now lost and would surely be forgotten.

Looking at Shihouin, through the one way window, looking at him as I stand there with my hands folded and my feet tapping on the floor made me think of that tiger.

Damn it. Damn it once again and damn it if I didn’t damn it before. Again, the time was not the proper to do this. I wasn’t at my office this time. No, it had to happen on a day off where I was at my apartment, fast asleep and dreaming of something. I wish I could remember. I had thought as I was walking towards the main building that it had something to do with flying but I doubt that was what the dream was actually about. My mind suppressed the dream almost instantly the moment I heard my phone in the other room ring. I woke up and almost fell out of my bed. I went over to that damn phone cursing at it and telling the person on the other line to hold on a moment. I looked at the screen to see who it was. I had hoped they wouldn’t call me but they did. I picked up the receiver.

I was informed that Shihouin Uchiha had returned to Kirigakure. The men at the front gate took him into custody and placed him in the cell that allowed more freedom in which chakra abilities were allowed and wrapped him in the st-jacket V3. They put no expense on the guy this time. I asked if they were sure it was the real Shihouin reminding the person on the other line of the Trojan tactic. They were sure this time saying they had sent out their best sensors out into the area only moments after his arrest. I gave them the order to hold them there until I reached into his cell. I would talk to him and see to what he wanted and asked him not to attack unless he attacked first. The agent on the other line agreed and the line went dead.

I honestly didn’t know how to react to it all. There was one side of me that was joyous of his return, the sinister and deceptive side of me that reminded me oh so much like my father who liked it when a plan came together. It melded in with all the cracks filled with the plan that I had put into it all; I had played the game of chess and decided to fuck with them all, my brother, the Hokage, the days of the week, the villages, everyone. It was satisfying like drinking water in a hot desert; it left me so quick that it gave me a dry, unsatisfying pleasure. That other side was the one that didn’t know what to make of it all. All of it wasn’t moving too fast and I had expected it sooner or later for his return but rather with the intent of that arrogant side of him that made me enjoy the battle between him

Yet looking at Shihouin, looking at his face and seeing that look of-loss. Yeah, that was the word. Loss. It was like the tiger losing its roar and couldn’t find a place to fit anymore. He was that, he was exactly that tiger. I felt pity, sadness, anger, madness, laughter, ecstasy all in one setting all in one second before I felt my excitement leaving me with the remainder of my emotions being that of a cool disposition. I looked over at Han who was sitting in a chair holding the plastic cup of coffee. He looked at me waiting for something to be said. I suppose I should be the one to break the ice, no need for this unnecessary silence.

“Nothing?” I asked

“He hasn’t actually respond to anything so far.” Han gestured to the machine behind him. It was a machine no bigger than six feet tall with a large computer screen. On it were the same images of a camera looking into the room, in this case Shihouin in the same position tied together by the strait jacket. What made it different was the fact that it had a variety of other function such as heart rate, blood pressure, heat signatures, chakra fluctuations, MRI’s, and one camera which was just the image. “I would say that all his vitals are normal but I’m not too sure. He’s playing very cool. Too cool to be exact. I rather have him be that cocky son of a bitch than this. It’s making me cautious.

I looked at Shihouin’s expression. Void of everything I thought and I said to myself how he lost something, something very important to him that made him want to come to me. He didn’t go to Kumogakure; he didn’t go back to Amegakure to see Hiroshi. He didn’t want to go and see Hiroshi, why would he. This was the second Hokage, the one that really put Konoha the way it was. Hiroshi knew or rather his father knew that the moment his reign would end a little seed of anarchy was placed in the ground and there was nothing that could be done about it. Seeing that piece of anarchy, Hiroshi made Shihouin’s life even harder than it was. Why? I asked that now because Hiroshi also had a painful life. He was the same as Shihouin, draw by the people who wanted the Hokage to be that one perfect ruler. They formed them, shaped them to what they desired. Perhaps that was what cursed these two souls. They were uncared for, no one gave them their undying loyalty because it wasn’t true. It was all false, every bit of it. All of it was pre-determined what their lives would be. Hiroshi hated it, loathed it with every single particle in his body. He rather have chaos than someone draw him a line and make him walk on it. Shihouin hated it too…but what I saw in his face made me think that he also loved it as well. It was a sense of security for him, it put him in a place where he belonged. It gave him safety in a sense that a sword gives one protection, in the right hands that is.

When I told all of that a year ago, I meant all of it because it was true. Maybe because I was able to see it at a young age because the things that appeared to reality and the truth is almost a thin line. People like Michio and Shihouin might not see it at first but when they do, it’s like opening a door to a room full of fire and the moment it is open, it consumes and corrupts and more so it destroys.

I didn’t think I would see him so soon but now that he is here, he wanted something to happen. It didn’t take a machine to tell me what he was thinking. I knew what he was running in that mind of his. “I’m going in. I’ll see what he wants.”

Han sat up in his chair putting both hands on the lukewarm cup of coffee. He showed an expression of partial calm and partial concern but then it lighten up a bit and he looked at the one way window “If anything happens…”

“I know.” I said, in a reassuring voice. “I’ll be fine.”

I open the door, the cracks released pressure and the air was filled with almost an ozone smell. It wasn’t ozone that’s for sure but it almost reminded of it. I walked in and the door closed behind me locking itself. No one could get in or out and to be honest, I don’t think Shihouin wants to come out.

I stood over the table and had my hands in my pockets leisurely. I felt the ring hover in my hand and I slipped it on my ring finger. “You seek something” I said softly “Seek and you shall find. Well, you found something. You put yourself in a shitter this time and I wonder why you’re doing it. Then…I said that I do know what you’re thinking and I already see that answer in your eyes. All I have to say is…why? Why are you wanting this to happen Shi…”I’ve never used his shorten name before but it felt natural to say it nonetheless. I don’t know Shi really, not like how Ayame knew Shi and not how an ANBU agent knew Shi. I only saw him a piece in the game and he’s pulling a move that would end his life. Why was I asking this question if I already knew the answer? That voice in my head, the voice of deception and reason said ‘Because you want to hear it from his mouth’ it said in a low whisper.

Yes, that was the reason I wanted to hear it. I asked because I need my curiosity to be fed. It killed the cat didn’t it? But it was satisfaction that brought it back.

“Why?”

For someone like him there was nothing else left in this world. To be honest what more could he accomplish as an Uchiha? He had been maybe the only one to view life like this... to ask the question.. What was the purpose of the Sharingan, the Mangekyou, the completed Mangekyou? What was the purpose of attaining power on a degree in which people would fear your name for your might and rule? The Uchiha referred to it as "true power." Whatever that means is about as subjective as which sandwich you prefer to eat. There was no real meaning for anything of that matter now. Being an Uchiha was nothing, being a shinobi was nothing. Why he asked? Simply because there was no purpose.

Shihouin looked worse than an innocent man on death row. His eyes showed no form of want to die, his body was pale and cold, his hair even loosing its loose curls and gaining straighter appearance. Coming to terms with what he had to do to himself and what he was going to do to the world had pushed his physical body beyond some unhealthy limits. He looked up to Ikkou who was looking tall, strong and confident no matter what the situation. Those glowing red eyes of Sharingan seemed so pathetic now, like a sad dog guilty of misbehavior. His only hope left in the world was to leave his power to Ikkou and get back at Michio one final time.

As he looked over Ikkou he could tell that he had been placing what little faith he created thirty minutes ago into the proper person. The concept of the world and his view and perception of it was perfect. There was no use in trying to attain an iron fist of power, there was no use in slaying everything and the mistakes of his past haunted him so much. Each individual soul he could see with his mind's eye, this massive chorus of souls wanting to kill him and extract vengeance and death upon him. Years ago you could ask him that question and he would tell you that he was above all of that, that he lost all his guilt and forgot what guilt felt like a long time ago. The soul searching did nothing but prove that everyone had these emotions no matter how much they lied to their self.

And now was the time of reckoning. Here sits Shihouin Uchiha. Here sits the Death of Konoha. Here sits the Uchiha Clan and it's true history. Here sits the accumulation of malice, power, greed, hatred and anger into one being. Here he sits in this chair, wrapped pathetically in a straight-jacket. Here he sits as a man who could have been still sitting in the Kage's chair, here sits the lost possibility of him being a kind, strong Hokage who could have changed Konoha forever. Here sits the man who's last chance has long since gone away and will never come back. Here sits a murderous, traitorous fuck. There stood Ikkou asking why, when he already knew the answer.

Shihouin looked at him one last time. "There's nothing else. There's nothing to explain. I did the world wrong, I helped destroy the image of the shinboi and I helped change it from something good into something evil. How can I ever be redeemed? It is not so easy as previous generations would have us think. At some point a man must pay for his sins regardless of how much he wants to change. Everyone must atone and accept that life is not free, it's cost is death. You don- you do know how many people I have killed and you understand it. It's no longer a game that I thought it was, it's serious, but it's too late. The game ends here and now. Please do it, now."

A last breath. Damn, all these years spent honing his body into the perfect weapon, he truly felt fear. It overcame him in ways that weren't possible. The ANBU were probably all wired up, but Ikkou would be able to tell it by looking at his face. He began to sweat uncontrollably, some of his muscles began to spasm a little bit in short twitches. His blood pulse rose tremendously and his heart couldn't be contained within his chest. He went from a deathly pale to a beet red color in a matter of seconds. This was the moment where he had finally realized, grasped and could feel the reality of his life and how he would have to pay for his wrongness. Death was surely coming and there was no defense for this, there was nothing he could do. Even if he fought it, even if he some how were to rip his way out of the jacket and fight one last time, he would still die. This was his only shot at honor, his last shot at some type of valor. To sit here and take it, to know death was coming and to look it dead on. He had no clue in what form it would come... Just like the millions of others he had killed or caused to be killed. But why?!

He wanted to run, he wanted to escape, maybe now he had been taught his lesson, there was no use for this. Right? He understood now. He could say he learned his lesson right? Was honor really that important? There was no way he could stand this. The clothes tightened up a bit more uncomfortably than needed. Ikkou wouldn't kill him right? He could join and start a new era, maybe get a chance of face or something the ANBU could hook up. Yeah... They'd let him do something, he didn't care if he had to be in prison for a long time, he could get out after he severed his time.. 20 years, 50 he'd gladly take any survivable number. Whatever else than this... There was no feeling like this.

There was no need for this!

Shihouin couldn't take this pressure... this feeling that something had its hand on his head and was forcing him down on his knees. This, bare, naked feeling as if he was being exposed to all the world so they could see him in his purest form. It was like he was being crucified for the world to see and laugh, as if he was nothing but a feeling of entertainment for them, something they could watch finally happen after so many years. Ikkou was probably getting an earful, he was about to twitch. Shihouin couldn't handle the realization of death... He couldn't accept that he had a time limit on earth and nor did he want to. One last fight out of here and then he would be on the straight path. He promised.

He ran. Or he would try to. He would burst forth from his chair with all the natural speed he could muster and try to lean his shoulder into the door and try to smash the lock open. Tears flushed down his eyes and his feet carried him like no other from the first step. Would Ikkou let this happen, would he let him go? Shihouin shouted, pushing his body up from his seat. "I can't take this!!! I can't die yet!!" So pathetic.

And that his how he deserved to die.

It washed over Shihouin, the aura of ending, that tired wave mounting over his body hitting him like the high tides hitting the shoreline with its constant barrage of wave after wave of water. He spoke in almost a trance, trying not to spill out his entire guts in a state like he is now. He held it back in with that ANBU control, the little man in his head holding the gate with just a slither of ground left before the gate would break and released all of what he kept inside all of these years. I had turned my chair around and crossed my arms listening to him, watching him speak as I did so. I don’t think I did this intentionally but I feel like I did. I had my chin resting on my arm and I looked at him with careful, almost analytical eyes. I didn’t give him an expression of pity however; I saw it like I look at anything else in the world. Life was a cruel one they say? No, life wasn’t cruel. It is quite neutral in a way that there is black and white and in that middle path was what life stood. People are born in the middle it is where we end up either on the white or black side that makes life hard.

People blamed life for the wrong doings of the world but I gave up that excuse long ago. I rather say that the path I take is hard rather than saying life itself was hard. When I look at Shihouin, his once spiked hair now matted by the sweat both of anxiety and fear, I saw what happens to a man who steps along a path that they couldn’t take anymore. What was one to do when that path just so happens to be the wrong one? In Shihouin’s case, it was exactly this. I sat there with an unamused look on my face. I glared needlessly at him focusing on what emotion I should really feel at the moment. As I thought, he was beginning to think as well. I could see it so clearly in my eyes. My bored self gazed upon a man who had doubts of his decision. He was asking himself ‘Why? Why am I doing this? What made me come up with this idea in the first place? I need a second chance.”

“Please…don’t kill me…” his eyes said the most out of his panic. The guard was gone, there was no more of holding back that emotionless state any longer. He completely lost what he had left of his ANBU training. It was the first step towards the path he decided to do. It was all happening to so fast now; he saw that reaper, the shinigami, the death god stand in the reflection of my eyes. He wanted someone else to do this, he wanted to escape. He didn’t want to die by hands. He wanted to die by someone he knew, someone he loved or someone who actually gave a damn about his existence. Me? I don’t give two shits about this stupid charade I go through. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I even try to keep this act going. It’s like going into a play without knowing your lines and really just improvising the entire act without a single thought. That was basically my life right there. I never had a plan, I never needed a plan. I just did things because I thought-no, I knew I didn’t want to be led. Seeing one like Shihouin, someone whose live was directed by someone is painful in my eyes. Looking at him, seeing his state of mind just through his body language, it made me cringe inside.

Fuck. Got fucking damn it. I’m laughing in my head right now. If I was so sadistic, I would laugh in his face and spit in his eyes then slit his throat without a second hesitation. So long, a very long time and in my fantasies and dreams I wanted to slice the throat of a Kage, the Hokage especially for making people like Shihouin into tools and weapons. I loathed them and I do not envy those Kages one bit. But looking at the product of someone who went through the full course menu without going mad this far. It’s needless for me to say that I gave this man props for living this long and not going mad at the instant he gain his freedom. I wanted to give Shihouin that freedom, to lead his life so that he wouldn’t have to experience the turmoil’s of what has happen to him in his life.

But was it worth it I said to myself. I keep asking that as Shihouin jerks his body, thrashing in the strait jacket. HE wasn’t using any jutsus so he wasn’t suicidal to go out that way. He was caged like an animal taking away from its habitat. The world wasn’t his habitat. It was truly Konoha that was his home. It was there where he started as a academy student working hard to gain attention, to gain status, to gain noterity among his peers and the generation. IT was there that he was a genin and was a on team where he had friends among them. They were rivals yes, but all in all they were the best of comrades and their bonds were nearly inseperable. He was a chunin and a jounin who ventured into the assassination arts and risk his life to be among the elite of the village, to become ANBU agents, to become someone that was legendary. He was the Hokage, where he sat among his throne, his chair that overlooked the entire village and could say to himself “I can’t forsake this village now…I couldn’t…I would lose too much…”.

Me. Oh God, me? I look at that scene and at times and maybe for an instant, and just an instant, I felt jealous of those people. Even if their lives were preordained, they could at least fall in that category of being happy. Even if it was a type of an illusion, they were happy nonetheless and I sometimes desired it as much.

I got up from the chair. I turned it around by circling it on one of its legs and I pushed it into the table. For the next part, I didn’t want to see his face so I turned my back to him and appear as if I was going to leave. What he would say. No. He wouldn’t say anything. There wouldn’t be any time for him to actually speak. He would think of something, something simple that gets to the point of it all. I can imagine him saying to himself “This is it?” And I would answer with a calm voice, soothing as a parent is to a rabid child and say yes.

No, I wouldn’t leave you in a state like this. No. You don’t deserve to live this life anymore. With this, I can’t give you anymore freedom Shihouin. How could I? You were a product, something my brother sees in you and knows how to make you miserable. Would you like to live in misery for the rest of your life? Answer me that Shihouin. Would you want to live in a place where death was always around the corner and no matter where you went, it was just a matter of time before it came and swept you off your feet. Your shouts, your screams, your pleads and your asking for forgiveness did not move me this time. Perhaps I’ve lived so long in a way that made me abandon such emotions in situations like this made me a very odd person. I say odd because a person should feel emotions when seeing something as sad as this. Almost like watching a small puppy slowly die and you watch it in an emotionless, expressionless state. Can you say that person is sadistic or rather inhuman?

I wonder what Han is doing right now. I can’t see him through the window obviously and I can’t hear the machine in the other room with its tenacious beeping and bopping noises. He looked at the machine, probably looking at his vitals and mine as well comparing both of us. He probably still had his hand on the coffee cup in that same white plastic cup. It was probably cold now. He always has one cup of coffee and never really finishes it. I don’t know why I’m thinking about what Han’s actions really, it really throws a person off.

Shihouin was reaching to the door. I turned my head and watched him move with the coordination of a crazed man wanting to redeem himself. He wanted to escape, he asked for it and I could’ve gave that relief to him so that he may start anew. But this time, I wouldn’t let that happen. He’s been through so much; the path he took really killed him on the inside and my brother knew it. He saw it the moment he laid eyes on him. He was a sadistic fucker, I’ll give my brother that title for sure. He was smart like me and just as influential like me. What made him and I different was the fact that I did this to Shihouin.

I grabbed at his collar before he could even reach to the door and my right arm seemed to slither around his neck putting him in a choke hold. I could’ve easily snapped it then because he was tied and if he tried to turn his neck I would’ve constricted my arm that would cut off any circulation. How unrewarding this really was but I couldn’t let him go through this again. I can’t…

I leaned my head towards his ear and my lips reached only an inch towards the opening. I shushed him, telling him to calm down but in the language that he and I understood. I spoke a language that my father taught me. How old this language existed and why it died never seemed to pass in my mind at any time of my life. It was the moment that I spoke it into Shihouin’s ear that made me realize why it was considered dead. It was beautiful to hear it even I was entranced by my own words. My mouth was a separate entity and the words that came out I understood but it just didn’t click with me at first. Then I said the one final thing that I learned over the years in the language he and I knew.

“Surely and goodness will following me all the days of my life…” my left hand drew out the hidden blade within the mechanism. It was silent as it came out like a quick bite from a spider and locked in place. I drew into the lower part of his shoulder blade and lifted up so that it would pierce the heart right underneath the nipple of his chest. He was a wiry thing, lanky and tall and in normal circumstances I wouldn’t of been able to grab at his throat but because of the restrictions of the jacket and the way he positioned himself, it made it easier for me to do this task. “And I will dwell in the house of the lord…forever..amen…” I said as I twist the blade.