THIS WAS ORIGINALLY PART OF BOKU'S DEFEAT OF OTARU. I LOVE THE BRUTALITY OF THE SCENE ("Broken teeth flying from a broken jaw"), BUT ULTIMATELY HAD TO CUT IT BECAUSE IT WAS BEGINNING TO DETRACT FROM BOKU'S NOBILITY, WHICH I WANTED TO BE AT THE FOREFRONT OF THIS SECTION (and yes, it was a bit wordy). IT WAS A TOUGH CALL.

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    Overcome with the memory, he became quiet again.

    The blood . . . so much blood . . .

    Boku’s shame kept him from speaking in anything but a whisper, “One thing that has always stayed with me was how . . . comfortable it was; how natural; how . . . right it felt, sitting . . . sitting on Otaru’s chest—

Broken teeth flying from a broken jaw . . .

“—driving the air from his lungs; punching, punching, punching down into his face.  Each blow had a distinct sound as . . . as my fists came down and his head bounced off the hard ground—

. . . hsss-swa-thok—hsss-swa-thok—hsss-swa-thok . . .

    “—so comfortable, so easy.”  Boku stopped for moment and looked at his hands again.  “My knuckles did not even hurt; I did not feel a thing, even though I could hear the bones in his face breaking and grinding, and I could see his nose flattened and—” he stopped and hung his head again.

    As much as Mitsui wanted to feel horrified at this brutal revelation—as much as she knew she should—she did not.  Only a small part of her mind even accepted this as the proper response.  No, the major portion of her mind was cheering, wanting to goad him on—even though the fight was long since won and the man before her was shrinking away from even the memory of it—wanting push him to keep punching, punching, punching until his enemy was not only broken, but crushed into that hard ground.  Not because her love had been hurt and humiliated, but because she saw—she wished—herself doing the same to Kenji.  And she knew she would not stop until he was not only broken, but crushed into that hard ground.

    But, seeing herself so fervent, so eager, so thirsting for such revenge, awakened something new in her.

    Revulsion.

    What have I become?

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

    Neither spoke for several minutes, both ashamed, but neither knowing their shame shared the same source.  Boku felt shamed that, even though years had passed, he still felt the same murderous rage simmering just below the surface; he still wanted Otaru’s blood.

    Mitsui felt shamed that she not only still felt the need for bloody revenge against Kenji, but that she also wanted to embrace that vengeful side of Boku.  Inside, she reveled in the fact that this was one more thing they could share.

    Outwardly, they both knew such feelings were wrong and they actively turned from them.  Inwardly, they had far less control.

    But, soon enough, they both were able to come back to themselves.  Boku, because he had turned away from those feelings that fateful day in the clearing.  Mitsui, because she had allowed love to turn her away.

    Struggling to mask her shame, she was finally able to speak in a choked whisper, “So . . . did you—did you . . .”  Her voice trailed off.  She did not dare finish for fear of revealing her true feelings.

    Boku shook his head, still unable to speak for a few moments.  Then, “No.  Sitting there on Otaru’s chest, fist raised for one more blow, I—” he finally looked up at Mitsui.  “I realized something.  I suddenly knew that his death—the death I had come there to cause—would be on my soul for the rest of my life.”

    Boku looked down again, but kept speaking, “I learned in that moment that, if you kill someone, you carry the weight of that life with you forever.  If the injustice that was done is worth that person’s life, then the weight of that life is bearable.  But, if it is not, then the weight of that life will drag you down and suffocate you, smothering your own life until there is nothing left of you.”  He looked up at Mitsui again, “Realizing I had no reason to kill Otaru, I was able to stop.”

    Sitting there, listening to Boku’s story, Mitsui had been wondering how she would ever be able to free herself from the rage she had let consume her.  Now she knew.  What Kenji did was not worth his life.  He was not even the one responsible.  It was Father.  And he had already paid for that injustice.