Beauty is a Beast

chapter 2

Shadow's presence was a big deal. For weeks and weeks, the hottest gossip topic of the town was him.

It was a boy, not a grown up man, as everyone had assumed. He was the smallest soldier ever known, and his hands and feet were small. In fact, if not for the callouses from shooting arrows, he would have pretty girly hands. That was all people knew, as Shadow never revealed his face or more of his body.

The boy didn't talk much and his mood swings would change from nice and sweet to snarky and arrogant, but no matter what he was always dripping with charisma. His delicate frame never fooled anybody into thinking he was lousy as everyone saw him practicing for fun after pestering Kirishima all day long to 'play with him'. It was like the bow was invented for him exclusively. And it was well known that Asami Ryuichi allowed the boy to toy with anybody.

For some reason, the general seemed to be very proud of the little archer. The fact was that Asami couldn’t stop thinking about him. No matter what he was doing his mind always wondered back to the mysterious little warrior. Who was he hiding from? Where did he come from?

It was obvious they weren't going to get many answers about who the boy truly was. He had to have a past, and for some time they really expected him to give away hints. That he would betray himself with his opinions about things, his speech, the way he dressed or moved, but he didn't. How could someone so young be that skilled not only at shooting arrows, but keeping secrets as well? He was more mature than anyone thought.

"Why a wolf mask?" Asami asked him one night.

"I like wolves." He answered. That was too vague, and they thought that one day they would listen to the full history. But it didn't happen. Instead, whenever anyone asked him about his mask or why he wore a wolf mask, Shadow would make up some funny story that nobody really believed. The boy pretended that it didn't matter, he just liked wolves or some poor excuse. And because he wanted to keep his memories to himself, Kirishima knew that it must be really serious. He told his general and friend that "maybe someday, maybe someday we will know, but for now it must hurt him to think about it, thus the silly different versions of his story." Whatever it was, Shadow would tell the story when he was ready.

Asami didn't mind to wait.

Some nights, Akihito would sneak out, ride his horse to some open field and take off his mask to stare at the Milky Way with his pretty eyes, the beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight.

He was torn. There he was, alone and naked, not that he was really naked but it was how he felt without his mask. He felt free, but so alone that it hurts. He pondered what he was going to do, if it was alright to be with the warriors, afraid that it was a dream that would suddenly be over and he would wake up and see Fei Long's face smirking at him and calling him by the names of animals, lazy cat, cunning fox, smelly piggly...

He looked down to the wolf mask in his hands. He never felt completely human anyways. Just a half, something inside him always telling him he wasn't complete yet.

He had always wanted to be a warrior, swing a sword and fight like a hero, but he couldn't; he was born too delicate, tiny and pretty to do that. They forbade him to touch a blade and made him paint, play the piano, dance waltzes, recite poetry and do embroidery. He didn't hate it, and he was actually pretty talented, but it felt so wrong to be there, a pretty looking doll, while real heroes, the warriors were out there fighting for... the king? The people? Does that really matter? They were living and he was not, locked up in the Glass Castle like a work of art, a sculpture, a painting, beautiful and lifeless until they sold him as a sexual toy to some perverted noble man. It felt right to reject that life and run away, but... who was he now, what he was supposed to be? A lonely wolf without a name or face?