Focal Turmoil

Realization

I woke up at a table, across from me was Hanzo, his eyes red and his hair was upon his shoulders, looking like black wires upon his head. In his hand was a tiny bottle which I recognized. It was sake.

"Genji," He mumbled, looking to the side. "Don't say anything, just listen to me."

He took a swig from the bottle of sake.

"I didn't want to kill you. I was forced to."

There was a silence in the room.

"After father died, I, being older, was told to take initiative, be more assertive, be a better leader than our father was. They trained me, to believe that all that mattered was being the best. Always first. Never second best. They saw you as that. I just wanted to make father proud. To make the clan proud."

He got up, the chair he was in, screeching across the floor. He began to walk around the dim room, but I could make out the grew walls.

"So, when father wasn't there to protect you from the truth, they all wanted me to fix you. They wanted me to stop you from smoking after curfew, to stop drinking, to stop having sex in your room. The things father let you do."

He paused, a tear falling down his face.

"I couldn't be last, Genji. You understand, right?"

He looked down at me, a sympathetic smile on his face, trembling.

"'Hanzo you're older.' 'Hanzo you need to control it now, this is your job.'". He mocked the elders, pacing across the room now.

"Genji, I want you to understand,"

He paused, sulking for a moment.

"I want you to understand that, what I did, wasn't me. You're still my brother."

He then took out a box of matches, setting them on the table. Right now, I was scared, I wanted to just ask him questions, to interrogate him in a way, but for once, I followed his instructions.

"You see this?" He asked, taking out his blade he had on his waist, it had blood on it, it was black and dry, and stuck to the sword as if it were inseparable.

I knew the blood was mine.

"I'm done with this."

He brought the blade up to his hair, which was now behind him, upon his back from before. He reached for his hair, bundling it in his hands, and then putting the blade along it, aggressively slicing it through. The hair fell on the ground, directly at his feet. They fell as gracefully as the cherry blossoms I witnessed in Hanamura, but there was a distinct sense of chaos that came from him.

"Here. I can't take this," He handed the blade to me and I stared at it. The weapon he nearly murdered me with, my blood still on it, dry specks of it in his hair along where he sliced through it. Hesistantly, I took it, only to set it back down on the table. As I put it back down, he picked up the matches on the table, looking at it for a moment, as he was contemplating about what he was about to do them. I was curious to see what he'd do with it next. He took out a match, carelessly throwing the pack at the table as he did so.

Then I realized what he was doing.

He poured the sake all over himself, keeping a corner of the bottle left for him to drink, I believe. I saw him light the match, running it on the side of bottle, (which wasn't glass) and immediately I tried to get up to help him, but I couldn't move. I was just fidgeting in the chair, and I felt tears begin to well in my eyes.

"Genji," He whispered, looking directly at me.

"Things might've changed."

In what seemed like slow motion, he loosened his grip on the match, and I screamed as he did so. I saw him close his eyes, leaving his hands at his sides, as I'd he was indifferent of this happening. I began to rock the chair back and forth out of panic as the match plummeted in the air before me. I didn't want to see him die in front of me. Let alone slowly die in front of me. I felt the urge to yell something, to say his name, but I couldn't, as he said.