Unseen By Yume Arashi
"My life has been a nightmare,
my soul is fractured to the bone..."
--Stabbing Westward, "Save Yourself"
Ryo Chuin rolled over, glaring at the ray of light that had dissolved his dreams. He groaned, but as much as he might resent the loss, there was no time for dreams today. Nakago had given him orders to kill the remaining Suzaku seishi, and he had to leave in less than an hour. He rose reluctantly and began brushing his long hair. He wasn't particularly looking forward to this mission. It would have been a surprise to those who knew Tomo, but Chuin really didn't enjoy killing. Each scream he heard woke echoes of his own pain, stirred memories of his own agonized cries. But it was his love who had commanded him, and for Nakago there was nothing he wouldn't do. Moreover, if his life had taught him anything, it was that that the world was hard, and either you were hard along with it, or you got hurt. He had been only a few years old when he'd learned what pain was. He barely remembered his mother -- a faint scent of perfume and whispers of a lullaby were all he had -- but he remembered the day she'd abandoned him. He remembered learning to survive on the streets, remembered being taken in by the man who'd offered him food and shelter -- for a price. He remembered that terrible first night, the 'training' he'd received for the man's unspeakable business.
As he dressed, Chuin reflected that one of the things that drew him to Nakago was the probability of a common past. He knew that Nakago would never admit to such a thing, but Chuin saw with the eyes of one who had been there, and he knew the signs. He understood the bitter fury, the thirst for vengeance, the much-needed mask that hid the ruined child inside. He dreamed of being able to break through Nakago's armor, comforting his pain with the understanding of one who had suffered the same. But that, he knew, could never be more than a dream. Nakago would destroy anyone who saw past his outer shell -- just as Tomo himself would.
Chuin carefully applied the face paint that made up his own mask, becoming his other self. No longer was he shy, wounded Chuin, hopelessly in love with a man who'd never care for him. He was Seiryuu seishi Tomo -- powerful, respected, feared. He could bend reality to his will, he was troubled neither by love nor by hurting others, he could set free his hate-filled rage at an uncaring world. Pain became something to be dealt to others, not something he could feel. Nobody could hurt him. No one could reach him. Nothing could touch him.
Tomo turned and left the tent. He had orders to carry out.