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It's a strange thing, to wake up when you hadn't expected to. To become aware, and know only a mind-numbing pain that fills your head and stabs into your eyes, burning to the point it consumes all rational thought. Slowly opening eyes are greeted only with darkness, gasping for breath is met with air so cold it sears lungs already raw with screaming.
Is this death, then? Impenetrable darkness, bone-piercing cold, everlasting pain?
He'd reached for freedom. That was all. Everything he'd wanted--a chance, for once, to choose what kind of man he was, to direct his own destiny, to define himself as he'd never been allowed to. He hadn't asked for happiness, just..... freedom. Peace. If not with others, then at least within his own heart, if that was all he would ever be allowed.
He hadn't expected to go to Hell.
But no..... No, the darkness is starting to clear from his vision, little by little. The agony of the Seal is starting to fade. What is this? Where is he? Why is it.....?
He died. He knows that, beyond the shadow of a doubt. He remembers it vividly, in each and every excruciating detail. Kneeling before Father in Hiashi's best ceremonial robes as he loomed over him, looking up into his eyes as the seal was formed and held, the way the pain had blossomed and spread like a wildfire, had eaten his mind away like acid..... He remembers. So how is he alive now, still?
Hizashi shakes his head in some effort to dispel the slowly fading dimness of his vision, and nearly loses his balance as he does, even kneeling. He pushes his way slowly to his feet, and carefully dusts the slow from his robes, looking around. Even through the lingering darkness, he can recognize the colorful awnings and brightly-lit stalls of a marketplace ahead--and where there's a market, there are people. Where there are people, there are answers. Hizashi pulls in a labored breath and straightens his spine, squaring his shoulders as he heads towards the hustle and bustle of the open market.
What should he ask? Why aren't there Kumo-nin guarding him? Should he act as though he truly is Hiashi?
Is this death, then? Impenetrable darkness, bone-piercing cold, everlasting pain?
He'd reached for freedom. That was all. Everything he'd wanted--a chance, for once, to choose what kind of man he was, to direct his own destiny, to define himself as he'd never been allowed to. He hadn't asked for happiness, just..... freedom. Peace. If not with others, then at least within his own heart, if that was all he would ever be allowed.
He hadn't expected to go to Hell.
But no..... No, the darkness is starting to clear from his vision, little by little. The agony of the Seal is starting to fade. What is this? Where is he? Why is it.....?
He died. He knows that, beyond the shadow of a doubt. He remembers it vividly, in each and every excruciating detail. Kneeling before Father in Hiashi's best ceremonial robes as he loomed over him, looking up into his eyes as the seal was formed and held, the way the pain had blossomed and spread like a wildfire, had eaten his mind away like acid..... He remembers. So how is he alive now, still?
Hizashi shakes his head in some effort to dispel the slowly fading dimness of his vision, and nearly loses his balance as he does, even kneeling. He pushes his way slowly to his feet, and carefully dusts the slow from his robes, looking around. Even through the lingering darkness, he can recognize the colorful awnings and brightly-lit stalls of a marketplace ahead--and where there's a market, there are people. Where there are people, there are answers. Hizashi pulls in a labored breath and straightens his spine, squaring his shoulders as he heads towards the hustle and bustle of the open market.
What should he ask? Why aren't there Kumo-nin guarding him? Should he act as though he truly is Hiashi?
