Crestfallen

Shiro

The clashing of swords rang in Shiro's ears, a sound he would never be rid of. His feet were quick and light on the ground, making sure he stayed on the balls of his feet as he faced his opponent. His eyes wandered to the crowd surrounding them, their cowardice and dishonor making Shiro cringe. 

"You dare look away from me, halfwit?" The soldier said in front of him. "If you're so fascinated with the crowd then I'm sure you'll enjoy having them laugh as I beat the living shit out of you."

He smirked, jumping forward and getting in a wide swing with his sword. Shiro counterattacked, easily moving away from the blade and kicking the man in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he crumpled to the ground. The man clutched his chest, heaving for a moment before standing up and facing Shiro yet again. Shiro fell back into a stance but was slightly startled by a building laugh that came from the soldier. 

"I guess you don't live up to your reputation. Supposedly you would have cut me to pieces by now." He hacked and coughed until he managed to get up to his knees. Once he gained his balance, he exposed his chest, tossing his sword to the side. "What happened to the famed Takashi, huh? The one who cut down man after man, splattering the enemies blood until the battlefield was covered in it. The one who would kill an entire army to save his comrades. Where did you disappear to, Takashi?"

Shiro's eyes went wide, heart clenching in his chest. He could feel the anger slowly pushing it's way through his veins. "Don't call me that."

"Oh? Seems I've finally struck a cord with the captain's lap dog." He chuckled, the smirk now a sneer as he turned to the crowd. "Do you not see him cowering? Should this man, no, this boy be allowed to lead us in the fight against the demon country?" The man yelled, angry words spitting at the crowd. They responded with enthusiasm and an eagerness to watch Shiro fall to his knees. 

Shiro was met with hundreds of eyes boring into his back, the cheers drowned out by the pain of his past cascaded over him. "Strike me down, you coward! Show your worth!" The man glared at Shiro, knowing him all too well, how to get under his skin. 

Shiro clenched his fist, the madness and rage inside him bubbling over the top. As the crowds continued to rip Shiro's pride to shreds, he could no longer ignore this persistent battle between his peers. In reponse, a scream that threatened to shatter his lungs came barreling out of his mouth, body shaking, no longer having the strength to keep it in. The yell seemed to go on forever, voice dripping with emotion until it came to a close. 

There was absolute silence. No one dared to speak as they waited to see what came next. 

"I'm the coward?" He said, laughing to himself. "I'm the coward. Listen to yourselves. None of you have seen a lick of war. None of you have seen what I have. I am the only soldier that came back who decided to continue to fight. No other man was idiotic enough to step foot on the fields of war again. The pain and suffering I have seen will never leave me. I cannot escape these dreams and these thoughts! My movement and abilities are hindered by my lost limb but that is not what hurts the most. Those I loved..." Shiro trailed off, grip slipping on the hilt of his sword, clanging against the floor when it fell from his grasp. He sucked in a deep breath, chest heavy as the weight seemed to fall back onto his shoulders.

"Those I love, gone, maimed, slain, murdered...dead...and those who were left after the carnage...will never be the same. War is not glory or victory. Everyone loses something. Everyone gets burned. In the end no one wins. The fear that persists in me will never leave but I push that aside in order to save those who I am fighting with. I never want to watch people die again, but it's worse than hearing about it by mouth and knowing I could have done something, even if I had only saved one life." His eyes trailed down to the man before him. His lips showed no smile, his expression showed no feeling, a man completely drained of life, a walking corpse.

"So call me a coward as much as you want but if you manage to make it home unscathed after all the dust has settled, then you have permission to talk to me of war." His words hung in the air, a sense of understanding falling over the troops. 

The man on the ground scoffed, rolling his eyes as he made an attempt to stand. "Then why don't you leave? If it's so painful, then just leave. It would give us more of a chance and plenty of room to rise to the top. Maybe we can even fill the spots that you and your previous troop have so graciously offered to us. I mean, so many of you perished. Do you really believe that your team can overcome the grounds you did last time without replenishing bodies? At least give us the archer's position. He was one of the only survivors of that onslaught and he couldn't even make one shot. Good for nothing-" The man was cut off by Shiro's fist, hand colliding with his jaw. A sickening crack rang out when his head hit the ground, blood gushing out of his nose. 

The soldier held a hand to his nose, coughing violently as Shiro grabbed onto his armor, picking him up and getting in his bloody face. "Like I said, until you have been there, you do not have permission to talk to me." Shiro sneered, leaning in to whisper his final, threatening words.

"And if you ever bring up those harmed in the Kerberos mission again, I will know and I won't hesitate to come after you." The soldier swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded slowly before falling to the floor as Shiro let go. With that, Shiro turned on his heels and walked out of the training grounds. His hand was clenched tightly and his anger didn't bother to stop pulsing through him. 

Shiro's head really started to pound as he headed toward the garden. He needed some fresh air and a change of scenery and the royal garden had always been a nice place to escape to. Before entering the maze of flowers and greenery, Shiro made sure no one was following him into nature's sanctuary, a deep sigh finding its way out of his parted lips. His mind preoccupied, Shiro stepped onto the path, not noticing the caped figure that slipped behind the tall, trimmed bushes. 

He padded quietly through the plants. Roses, chrysanthemums, hydrangeas, snapdragons, you name it. The castle had them all and they all shined, equally vibrant and aromatic. It was a sea of scent, an ocean of colors that cascaded over the senses. He loved how the scene completely enveloped him but at the same time, delicately danced around his body. It was gentle and harsh at the same time, the sweet smell contrasting the striking beauty that each color held. Shiro sat down on the stone bench in the middle of the expanse, getting lost in the sight before him.

He almost didn't notice the hand that clamped around his mouth.