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Yo! I'm a fairly simply guy who's in here due to my love of writing. I've never got into the swing of things on these forums due to other stuff, hence the massive difference from the time I joined to the number of posts I've made. I'm a big geek when it comes to all things anime, fiction and games. I can roleplay just about anything as long as it doesn't involve me using an actual person's picture. I usually lean on the anime style of RP's, but recently I've been branching out for the sake of gaining perspective. I don't inherently dislike any character tropes, I believe if the execution is right and the direction is clear then something of value can come out of that. I might be online in theory, but that might just be me leaving the tab open. If you wanna talk just go ahead! I don't bite... much.

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Romaní Bogart
Savaging Savant of Strength

Certainty wavered, and through a sunlit morning where the bustle of the city streets formed the canvas which prelude Romaní's memories, like a sudden stroke of flash. Reliving a moment not so far apart from what was today, where night strobes glistened through the glints of rain. The chilly night lends it self for the critters such as toads and ducklings to wonder out, but in this night there stood a youth with hands extended towards his farthest distance, and although the umbrella that grasped his hands would shield him from the rain, there wasn't any form to stop the rain from landing on him, as its shielding was directed a another youth who knelt before some flowers before her, perhaps lost in her thought as well. With dreary silence suggesting she wasn't in any mood to speak to the individual before her.

"Why are you here?" Her words faintly displayed the mirror which was her displeasure with everything. Romaní didn't retort, but instead looked at her feet, soaked through the sandals and socks, bright cyan and shivering. Romaní shoes were old, rippled through all sides and loosing pigment through wear and tear. They were small, too small and the fingers of his feet almost curled into a grip. But... extending the umbrella towards the young girl, Romaní proceeded to look at her with the warmth of a small, inviting her to hold it. Before another few moment passed, she finally took it upon herself to hold it. Reluctantly so, but... noting that he then removed his shoes, her face oozed of confusion.

"Maybe later we can get you new one, but for now you can keep these." The young girl, probably of age twelve or thirteen at most was a neighbor to Romaní, a young girl who's father has abandoned her at a young age. Perhaps not the most excellent, neither the most soft, but her heart was at the right place. At a moments notice when Romaní arrived home for the weekend to stay with his parents, he heard the loud shouts coming from shed next to his room, from there a lot of clanging and bashing before a young girl ran aimlessly towards the distance in the middle of the rain. Hands resting on his knees, leveling with her so that they can see each other eye to eye, his hands removed her hair, which hid a bruise that seemed to have begun to swell... Her hands swatted his away.

"Don't look!" Romaní breath began to become shaken, and her voice trembled ever so slightly with the words emanating from her breath: "Did you see?" A gash which lend itself from one side of her face to the next, reflexively Romaní reached to his own scar felling its broken surface as a reminds or days past through etched misfortunes. Tearing the lower half of his shirt, he entered the nearest coffee shopped and asked if they could allow him to have a couple of ice cubes, the barista at the back looked at him curiously, but amidst her confusion she replied to his request. Placing it over her head, with a strong pressure to hold and bleeding off, they began to walk towards the distance.

"Why are you doing this? You barely even know me."

"Who knows?" Her expression soured ever further, she walked a couple of steps in front, attempting to avoid his presence even though she was wearing his shoes, and holding an ice pack over her head. Drenched and soaked in the rain, Romaní continued to follow her regardless of the circumstances. For a moment's time, it seems she was dragging her feet to wherever the winds took her, but really, she was pacing through an empty city of light wondering where she would go next. Wondering if this cold she felt was permanent, and perhaps hoping that the weird kid next door wouldn't simply get tired and decide to head home. A challenge perhaps, but one she would endure-- "There's no need to keep looking, you know?"


"It's okay to be lost once in awhile. You can always ask for help." Her teeth gritted, almost as if lashing at the very suggestion of conceding. "What the hell do you know, freak? Just one good look at you and everyone can see you're nothing but trouble!" Her fangs were definitely sharp, and they were ready to bite at anyone remotely close enough she could get a hold of. Like a rabid street dog corner into a wall, she was prepared to fight any sense of danger she could receive. A laugh escaped him "Oh this, yeah it's never been to pretty look at. Maybe I should tattoo it or something." He deflected her animosity entirely, baffled almost at her quips resulting in nothing, she turned and lashed again "Can't you hear me!? I said get lost, freak!"

"Maybe later, when you've chilled out a bit--"

She began to grip her hand into a fist, noticeably looking more and more frustrated, before Romaní spoke. "It's pretty bad, y'know? Being the only person who seems to see everything that's wrong in something. Somehow also being the problem of that 'everything'. While everyone else counts their graces and wonder in blissful ignorance." His sight trained into the puddle before him, the ripples tides with the sounds of droplets hitting the earth. the auburn of his iris reflecting the glittering dance of fractals permeating the night's rain. "But I know a bit of ice cream could help--"


Awakening, a push had returned him back to reality, where he now faced a myriad of people shoving him and pushing to move so they can cross the street to the other side, attempting and fumbling to sustain his fooding, Romaní grasp his handbag tight so all the books wouldn't fall off and his homework would be safe from the tyranny that was outburst of gust and wind. A voice echoed from the distance, capturing his attention as a young man with smooth long lavished locks spread his hand out the window of a vehicle. "Joey Grayson?" Spontaneous, and lively as always, it seemed that he and a couple of other's were heading to school as well, he took a glance at his watch, and looked at the distance he had to travel... He didn't want to make things awkward, and he wasn't particularly fond with other members of his class. But.. he also didn't want to be late. So he proceeded to walk towards the vehicle and open the door, sitting the most immediate seat.

"G'morning. Thanks and... sorry for the inconvenience."

I'm interested in joining. I always wanted to try out a Persona RP.

The outcome was to be expected, the flare of battle thundered under the pressure of true collision. Their bodies engaged in the most consequential art of battle there could be displayed. One man, poised with hands on shoulder width, back hunched lunching a series of attacks towards a boy who seemed to grin throughout, the sweat drowning his visage as his body, almost rhythmically shifted itself on a guise of mastery. Quick moves from left to right, turns and spins to evade the coming hits. Their essence in itself held murderous intent, the expression of their ferocity displayed itself upon the canvas which the two stood. Grasping the flow of the wind itself, the weight and propulsion of the body's natural inertia to develop their coursing flow of movements. Their speed exceeded any normal man. A crowd of men screaming their hearts out, witnessing such a flow unravel before their very eyes.

There the youth, known as the Macedonian Bull faced of against a giant twice his size, three times his width. The man towered roughly around 210 cm tall, and 200 pounds of muscle adorned his physical. However, with every hit he seemed to usher all he met was the waves of the air, a lavished dance of evasion greeted the giants might, and such brought him to frustration. Finally, the youth of dyed blond hair tired of the games, and shifted his course, with a single twist of his hip, he allowed an opening, staring straight to the mammoth's eyes. Their clear intent for victory even if it resulted on his own well being.

"What fire!"

Noticing such the man retreated his fist, winding up his most powerful left hook, you could visually notice the arm flex its bloated bicep, the forearm rearing to collide with all intentions to snap the youth's head clean off his head. Leonard Magnus Aldrige, the Macedonian Bull, the youth of true outstanding might, twisting his heel, shifting his body into a pivot and twist to shift momentum to the right, his hands caught the hand upon and open palm, a force blew around the impact zone, conducting the energy outwards in a massive force, but leaving Leo entirely unharmed. His weight now under Leo's control, the inertia of such leaving his footing unstable, with just a sway to the left their bodies now shifted, he was falling into an uppercut that connected, full contact. Leo could sense it, every secular bone and tendon stretch and tear under the weight, falling backward now. This mammoth of a man now stumbled to regain composure.

The wind was now under his wings, the balls of Leo's feet kicked with sustained pressure on exerting through the calf and quads. Teeth clenched, the bullet of sweat adorning his body, shiftless and bloodied tensing every secular muscle, pulling his arm from the shoulder and delivering a barrage of hits onto chest, torso and face.

Jab, jab, jab, hook, twist, knee- to axe kick, tornado kick, to twisting heel kick, extend, pull back, superman punch, stomach upper cut, rapid jabs, pull back, pivot right hook, left back hand, Leaping knee, shifting left knee, utilizing the enemies on chest he propelled his body into a forward somersault flip... Moonsault hammer hell drop!

Each individual hit was summoned with extreme force, and with each successful collision a sound of blow radiated through the area, the cheers grew louder and louder. Hands began to douse itself in the blood of his opponent. But that wasn't enough to fall that monstrosity. It regained it composure through grit and strength, and cam down with a grab, lifting young Leo over his head and power bombing him once, twice, three times! The earth beneath their heels began to crumble and break, making the hole deeper.

"Brat! I got you now!"

Standing above him, now it was his turn to deliver all his strength, Hammer down lumber punch. Both hand grasped to each other and smashing into the earth where Leo's body sustained the entirety of its power, a grunt released itself, a cough before another was landed. Now he just punched consecutively, trying to kill or knock the boy out. He wanted to win, he needed to win. He just didn't. Like. This. BASTARD!

Hand grappled his hand, a trembling between two strength, blood painting his mien, this was the fight. This was the fight. "So, you think you can make me feel defeat?" The strength was being pushed back, by someone who seemingly looked as if a trained had rammed unto his body. Blood and marks all over, as he pushed him further and further beyond from his standpoint and pushed, the man recovered and charged. Leo swung his first punch, landing on the center of his face, tanked entirely by the mammoth of a man before, him, but then...


The strike that was to come was intercepted, moved and shifted to the side. Leo began to summon a power beyond his self. No, more so that the power was birthed from him from the very start. He wanted not to hold back any long. The most genuine smirk between pain, blood and the spirit of the fight.

"Grit your teeth, you swine! Iron FACEBREAKER"

The crack of bones wasn't the worst, perhaps the sound could make a couple of twiddling soul to hurl or gag merely at the imagination of such. Perhaps it was the blow, increasing every movement to their maximum capacity, to witness might being display with such raw, unfiltered gumption that caused the crow to intake the surroundings. Perhaps it was the lunch that the man suffered between two support beams by a boy who weight probably weight what he could lift with a single hand, throwing him across a room no bigger than just a couple of meters wide. But the worst image, was the boy standing proudly. Broad shoulders, hefty stance, proud determination. Raiding set fist that just down and won him the victor above his head, screaming to announce his victory in celebration.

The crowed joined him, chanting his epithet. The Macedonian Bull. The one who will Rend the Iron Wall!

Briefing has concluded, in approximately a couple of moments they would have to deploy. Final adjustments were made, Gungnir stood on standby next to him ready for launch itself. Normally he would be in command, sitting comfortably away at some desk far away from the front-lines. However this time it seemed he needed to quite literally dive into the eye of the storm. Attire consisted of a jet black rain cloak, hooded up, padded fingerless gloves, tall dark standardized military boots and finally his usual glasses replaced by goggles. They functioned similarly as the old ones, however in this type of weather it would be far more beneficial to have something with a bit more sturdiness and control. The screen appeared upon the shine of the goggle's glass with the words ALL CLEAR signifying his link to HQ and Gungnir. The helicopter's engine began to roar, it's strength was incremented to sustain the heaviness of the storm, rainfall was strong and even the lightning seemed to be thwarting to their demise. His arm pad rose to vision, pressing the necessary commands ushering Gungnir into flight mode, instead of following the other's through the fall, he leaped into the distance, extending his hand upon the free fall and grasping at a speeding object, Gungnir itself launched and held tightly to it Hiro maneuvered its movements to land him somewhere where he could support upon the distance.

Landing a couple of feet away, his hand touched a button on the side of his goggles, numbers began to surface with a latitude and longitude bar at it's edges. Clearing the image of the scenery bathed quite literally upon disaster. The flap of his cloak demonstrated the strength of the winds and the power of such a predicament. Subaru was in charge due to her obtaining clearance, to be honest he didn't understand why out of all she would be the one to have such, but in earnest in he didn't place much thought upon it. Search and rescue, such an expedition would be perfect for him considering his abilities to heal and sustain people's wounds with the quickness of a link. However, the number of personnel they needed to secure would become a leading factor as well. He needed to keep that in mind, fortunately, killing the invades it's not a priority. We needed to move and quickly.

Gungnir hovered above him, waiting for orders. He pulled the barrel of his pistol and released its safety. Gripping such with certainty. He wanted to avoid fighting as much as possible, but then again, with the strikers and gunners on board he'd really doubt he would have to lift much of a finger considering their strength.


Theme 2
Convenient, isn't it? Persistance trumps into that when you can throw yourself into death's embrace without consequence. For all you know about-- What do you truly know about sacrifice? - Vrael the Tailless

The turbulent nature of their relationship rocked their conversation like a seesaw on summer's day. Their shifting gaze avoiding each other's stare because it was easier to witness their own reflections upon liquid than to contest the other's flaws. At this moment, both seemed to try to bare their hearts on their sleeves, but were too afraid that by doing so, they would be exposed by the tidal waves that would threatened the foundation of the castle of sand they tried so hard to built. People are like this in general, always afraid to demonstrate their most intimate pureness to one another because we're too afraid to see what was is only and simply only what is called human nature. Hiro sensed an incredibly guilt boiling upon the epicenter of his conscious, a trauma which left him bound by the questions that would never obtain answers. And so fear crept from the lights that casts shadows, men and woman knew of a perception he was too foreign to. Attempting to live as someone else because whoever he became now was naught but an outsider in the body of a stranger.

These thought and emotions were his own, but with each passing second he questions if it would be better for him to disappear. Hiro thoughts every individual outcome there could, perhaps even those which he couldn't even do alone. But nevertheless, no memories of his past whisked themselves back. People argue that the backbone to humanity is their ability to adapt, their ability to face any all adversity in the eyes and conquer it with audacious might. To stand above all tribulations and come out the victor, or perhaps even never lead a life where defeat is acceptable. Mankind is a force powered by their own history, but Hiro... The boy who now sat a short distance from a, now stranger, could not relieve even a moment where he and his parents smiled or shared. He had no attachment to anyone because he could not associate any emotions of them to memory. You see, to deny someone's very existence in you log of life, is to erase them completely from your reality.

And every day, every moment he sees this individual, every moment that Himura, Hanako spoke or even took it into herself to speak to him, was but a ledger of how he-- of how HE right now was but an intruder in a world not meant for him. The journal's words spoke to him once more, rose once again from the faint memory he had when waking.

"I'm frustrated. Every moment of every day I have to live with the fact that someone is taking from me, what's suppose to be rightfully mine!"

Those words etched themselves into his mind, a certain sense of disgusting, perverse egoism and pride of which he was disgusted by. Words that were apparently written by him. By his own hands, those emotions which burned with certain passion-- Perhaps even hatred.

"Truth be told, this was my failure. Of course I should've been much more aware of my mistakes. I didn't view her as an opponent. She was suppose to simple be a pebble on my step. Just a pebble on my step! Why? Why is it that every time I attempt something of worth someone comes in and swipes it off my hands. It was so close, so incredibly close! I was suppose to be the center, and now I'm being pushed to the back of the line. Why? I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this. I'm not about to lose it all, because some intruder decided that their limelight could shine brighter than mines! I'll do anything... If else fails, I'll simply-- render her abilities useless."

His hand gripped to his hair, he was responsible for it all and he couldn't even remember why. Those words and emotion were foreign, those desired and hopes and lack of thereof were all from a mind that was not his own. Time wouldn't heal those wounds. Hiro was by all intent and purposes... a criminal. Jealousy was all which oozed from that individual, a power hungry fantasy that would quake any adversity out of its existence by any means necessary. Hiro couldn't apologize for those actions it would feel disingenuous or perhaps even... Why? They all loved that monster, why was he the one being removed from reality in exchange for that? He didn't get it. He didn't want to get it to some extent, he needed to right by him and heal that girl... that girl who merely wanted to follow a path similar to that Hiro from the past.

Hanako finally rose her voice from the seams of silence that protruded between the two. Her stare finally calm, like an ocean before a heavy storm, they demonstrated a certain conviction to them. The glistening of the blaring light reflecting like fractals in the surface of her iris, brightening the hue of her auburn eyes unto view. "I can't say I understand... I don't really, but it's tough to talk to you recently. You've been always a good friend to me, and to everyone one in our circle. I just..." Her words stumbled between sentences, attempting to search the words which jumbled in her mind... As if someone took a dictionary and began to rip the pages. "Why is it so hard for you to just... try again!? Are we really that unbearable now!?" Her tone was softer... trembling under her own pressure, sustaining whatever emotions she was suppressing all this time.

"Is it too much to ask to be friends again, Hiro? Really? Did I do something wrong, was that it?"

"No, that's not it... It's just--"

"Not that simple, right? You think it's easy for me, too? You think I like to know that my best friend doesn't even want to bother himself with us anymore? You're not the only one who has it rough, Hiro! We're all worried! I want to know about you, I want you to know about me! What is so wrong about rekindling what we once had!? Is it such a sin to want to talk to you!?" She was getting visibly more frustrated, hell, frustrated was an understatement. She was livid, sad, torn. Everything felt like it was breaking before her very eyes, and he could only stare... This is also why he couldn't tell them about who that monster was. Because to some extent, he must've been important to someone. To sully that image, to interfere with that care they had with him.

And so Hiro stands and moves towards his friend, grabs her by the arms and drags her alongside him. Her mind taken aback, the words didn't seem to follow through, but there certainly was sense of guidance. It wasn't forceful what he was doing she followed. Throughout, there was a certain warmth to his grip, a reminiscent aura of a boy who she knew long ago. Taking her further, and further away from the cafe they both were in. Soon, 5 minutes passed, then 10... then 20. Until they finally reached the outskirts, after traveling within a narrow path between the trees and forest, overlooking a small hill he turned and witnessing a florescent sky, with the stars illuminating the world with their beautiful radiance over the city.

"Hiro, what are you-"

"You're right. It's not a sin to try to rekindle a friendship. I don't remember much about you, Hanako. I can't force myself to so either... And I apologize because of it." Hiro, mesmerized himself due to the view, a smile across his face.

"So, even though I can't remember the past. There's no reason why I should be afraid of the future. So... I think this moment right here, really paints itself as a great first memory for us." And so he sat, tapping the floor next to him, welcoming Hanako to be next to him. She was... She didn't really... she laughed, genuinely as she sat, pulled her phone and took a picture of the two.

"To our first memory then."

He had many demons to conquer, many issues to resolve. He didn't understand everything, he didn't accept all of what he knew, but for tonight. For this moments. He would spend it making a first memory... with a once, former friend.

And how many have died because of you? Perhaps your enmity is misplaced. Behind that piteous guise is a black soul steep in blood. None who enter-- are hopeless, Little Sheep. - Bast

The walk home felt eternal, the events of today keep rummaging across his mind evoking a sense of foreign embarrassment and disappointment. Eyes trained itself on the now broken piece of a drone he kept on his hands. Mila said it wasn't serious, that it could be remedied, but the more he twisted it to encompass its damage visually, the more lost he was about how exactly that was gonna happen. Mila also said Kuni would be proficient in that, but... The grit on his teeth began to tighten finding himself ruffling his hair in frustration of just thinking about the prospect of approaching a girl, let alone attempting a full blown conversation. Perhaps he made a fool of himself, and that in of itself made the edges of his cheeks flush in the color of rose. "You'll hear this-- You always do." Why was that peering to his thoughts again? His mood was already sour and this wasn't alleviating Hiro's mood at all. The stop light flashed its crimson, he needed to stop. The vehicles moving at their usual pace, the world forwarding without a means of a halt. Everything is based on the periphery of tomorrow, today is what we are inevitably stuck with and yesterday what we leave behind. Unfortunately, although the actions we took form what we are today for a yesterday, there is rarely the case for someone who shares no history, who's slate has been written blank. The night's stars hid between the world's pollution of light. The moon was all which stood its ground through the spectacle of night. Each minute longer than the next.

Faintly, the sounds of footsteps were captured in a moment of trance, where two stood next to the other, eyes trained on the distance where they now knew to focus upon. Although the scenery before them was bustling with the sounds of everyday in the city, of motor engines and clatter of the masses, of distant chatter and faint music drumming somewhere close, their time was silent. Hiro clutched his senses, knowing he took a certain turn without much thought placed upon it. And the familiar voice rose to greet him in a moment that preludes his worry. "You must've taken the wrong turn... You know I take this route to the train station." Yes, he knew at least this much. He knew about how some roads lead to certain people, monotony was a routinely sin we all took part of. "Would it be too much of a surprise if I said that just for a moment... I forgot?" A palpable silence. The two remained without speech, noting every secular moment pass them ever slowly.


Convenient, isn't it? Persistance trumps into that when you can throw yourself into death's embrace without consequence. For all you know about-- What do you truly know about sacrifice? - Vrael the Tailless

There, in the bustle of everyday where two met each other in the heat of a warm cup of tea. There didn't seem to be an instance where anything felt out of place, where with each deliberate blow on the surface of his drink, steam begun to surface alluring him to its aroma. His company, a girl who's bliss perhaps enveloped the entirety of the atmosphere. The placid nature of her essence would sooth storms into silence. Porcelain skin, flawless and quaint, meshed together so effervescently with the hue of her iris. The auburn which decorates her, nay embellished her long yet fluid brunette locks, rested upon relaxed shoulders. Long lashes courteously gracing the innocence of her gaze which gracefully follow a trek which leads all downwards to her rose colored lips. Thin neck, adorned by a necklace of gold, moon and sun emblem at its display. Someone from an unknown, or perhaps better said, faded past. Himura, Hanako...

Silence propelled between the two still, although one sat before the other, it's as if they were at their lonesome. To each, their presence was felt, yet their absence was noted. The reflection of the liquid provided better entertainment. Room for thought, canvas for memory-- Their silence was mere preparation. Eyes raising from their slumps, her smile, perhaps forced in the light of the situation. Whatever powers were which brought the two her today were now colliding with each other, attempting to break through a wall of ice thicker than any stone. "How have you been, Hanako?" Her hands gestured her hair behind her ear, looking for the answers perhaps through the glass window which peered to the outside. People walking as the night began to settle in, and all were at their way towards their homes. "I don't know. Perhaps things have been comfortable for me. Nothing particularly new has happened from the usual."

"Guess that's nice in it own way. It just means life is going well, perhaps not exceptionally well. But well enough." Her sights have demonstrated a pattern, and much to his surprise so did his. He never felt awkward towards this girl, but it all was met with a sense of guilt. Perhaps, because he felt like an invader in his own body. Memories should flash, thoughts should emanate from merely speaking to her. But it was all a blank page, where the remnants were ripped of its books, and old testament of their history wiped clean from his every existence. Her thoughts troubled her, certainly there was something she wanted to say, but found it impossible to speak it. Hiro was certain, that whatever it was he was not prepared to faced. And much to his dismay, he could not remedy either. "Rich, coming from a cadet Linker like yourself. I bet things in the academy are going well for you."

"Well? I guess, the people are nice enough. Teachers are a bit strict, but nothing out of the ordinary. It feels like any other school-"

"Do you even remember what being in another school feels like?"

There it was. Perhaps she spoke it as if to understand something about him, underlying those words was a tinge of hope or perhaps, a tinge of grief. Her eyes locked with his, a smile broke on him. But silence once again over took the atmosphere. A smile was certainly the best way to get out of problem. Anodyne which lead people to peace. She was unconvinced, unmoving with her stare. Hiro thought for a moment, perhaps even hesitated in whatever calm he was grasping. Certainly the softness of his features allowed Hanako a moment of respite, but she knew all too well that those words stung. Like a blade to his side it was perhaps the limp which halted his run into a stop. She couldn't understand, or perhaps she didn't want to. Their history was something she treasured, perhaps valued above many others in their circle.

"You know, everyone is doing pretty well. Their pretty mad though, you haven't been answering your calls."

"I'm sorry. I haven't really been in the mood, I guess."

"In the mood? Hiro, people are worried about you. The least you could do is answer their calls."

"It's not that simple..."

Notably getting much and much more frustrated, Hanako gripped her skit ever tighter attempting to regain whatever amount of composure she could. A sigh released itself, her thoughts were begging to get jumbled with her feelings. And Hiro understood it too deeply. Something about everything that was happening at this moment felt like it was meant to come sooner or later. He could feel it creeping into his very core it was a matter of time. It was only a matter of time.

"It wasn't your fault..."

"She's still on the hospital on physical therapy, attempting to walk. How is it not my fault?"

"She doesn't blame you for it."

"I can't even remember why--. I can't take responsibility for something I don't even recall."

"There you go again."

"What else do you want me to say? I've apologized and apologized, but... it's not that simple."

"Does forgiveness lost its meaning on you? Hiro, for all the graces in the world I don't understand your obsession with this. It was an accident. An accident!"

A single memory rose, something he did moment after waking. A voice telling him he should do better, he should improve and attempt to live life in the struggle. A journal, when trying to recall events, moments, family. Was a section that wrote about a person, himself, that wanted this to happen. a detail note explaining some inner turmoil, some inner demon he needed to unleash. And so... when waking comes to fruition the idea that all of this was his doing, her damage, her moments of pain and therapy felled down on his hands. But why? Hiro, the man most envied other praised, a man who was sought to be the next Striker to surpass his father... After such an event, he didn't want to rise another hand against someone, it be better if he focused one something else... on a more supporting role. Maybe if he mastered this technique, maybe if he could do something to ease her pain and get her to move more efficiently... Then maybe he would obtain redemption. He was entertaining his thoughts, and Hanako was getting impatient, her features finally ease themselves and a slight frown exchanged for her anger.

"I get it. You're scared, but being scared is expected. But to be lost in hope? To be lost in the unseen. I think that is really disappointing"

She was right. But where to start? All he could do was continue, move on, attempt to get better. But at the moment--

"It's just... not that simple."
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